Trouble Brewing

Great Harbour Road

Once proud buildings line this great road, now low and grim. Elaborately carved marble is faded by the brackish rains of sea the storms of the coast have torn asunder much that was once great, shattering statues and breaking the cobblestones up so that tufts of rough grass push through the soil.
 
A cool breeze races through the streets and alleys, driven from the sea to the south. All about there is silence, and only the scarcest hint of movement: a rat? A gull? A feral dog? Who can say.

Contents:
Shadowy_Figure
Kiraz
Obvious exits:
 West leads to Eerie Ruins.
 Southwest leads to Long Quay.
 North leads to Shattered Bazaar.
 Darkened Doorway leads to Old Warehouse.

[Kiraz(#32438)]
Nearer to the quay, the winds grow stronger, ebbing and blowing in a matter similar to the sea that bears them. They whistle and moan through the tumbled rocks of the dead city sending debris and withered leaves askirling. Dark clouds tower in the west, pierced by frequent lightening moving forward slowly, implacable and merciless. It is still distant but already the sound of crashing waves grows louder from that direction.

In counterpart, weak tendrils of wintery light stretch from the eastern horizon, casting the black clouds in an eerie light - like fresh bruises mingled with faded yellow ones.

The temporary camp is astir. Roughened corsairs, some bleary-eyed from a night of gambling and drinking, go about their morning ablutions. Several crowd around a fire eating a hearty breakfast, sealing the fate of the villager's last pig. More than one eye is cast towards the approaching storm.

A pair of those wary eyes belong to the ship's First Mate, Fahri, who stands near the fire drinking some steaming black concoction from a mug.

[Tasnim(#16424)]
They may be enjoying themselves with gambling and a fine breakfast, but they will not be for much longer.

From the ruins of the inner city, a figure comes. It is a young girl, shrouded in black, though her pale frightened face contrasts her garb. Even as she nears the camp, her pace does not slow -- it is not until she is within their midst that she stops, dark eyes flickering about until they fall upon the form of Fahri. Toward him Tasnim steps, and she speaks rapidly, her tone wavering. "There's something in the forest yonder. It-it spoke, saying it was angry that we have not yet left. Kiraz stayed behind, and--" The scribe twists her fingers. "We need to go see. I was sent to get help."

[Kiraz(#32438)]
Fahir's creased face turns to face the young scribe. The man studies the girl for a moment, his brow creasing further as he frowns and listens. He dashes the contents of his mug aside, sending a black stream to stain the pale stone. "You," he identifies a man seated before the fire with his gaze and orders, "inform the Captain."

"You three." His gaze shifts to a knot of other corsairs, "Arm yourselves."

The First Mate drops his mug to the soft ground and reaches for his sheathed scimitar leaned against a bit of fallen masonry. "What did you see? Has Kiraz been attacked?"

[Tasnim(#16424)]
"No, not that I last saw at least," the girl replies, looking up anxiously as the orders are given. "She remained behind, in the forest that has overgrown a section of the city. There were strange noises therein..loud booming disturbances, and then the strange voice that spoke warnings to us. Our comments stirred its wrath, I'm afraid."

[Kiraz(#32438)]
The man relaxes subtly as he takes in this answer. He finishes buckling his sword-belt and nods at the young girl. "I suspect all this nonsense over a clever fisherman we'll find 'em soon enough and gut 'em."

"How far out was she? This is no storm go gallivanting about like a madman."

[Alimah(#24218)]
"All right," Alimah says, coming up to the group and looking none too happy that someone fetched her from the ship. "What's this matter? More ghosts?"

[Kiraz(#32438)]
"Captain," the First Mate greets with a nod of his head. "I am not sure, but the girls seem to have seen or heard something out where the tress grow." He nods his head again to the young scribe. "Tell her what you told me, girl."

[Tasnim(#16424)]
"She was retreating slowly. Probably near the edge of the trees if nothing befell her," answers the scribe to the man.

Tasnim turns as Alimah approaches. "Kiraz and I were gathering herbs when we heard a voice and odd noises in the forest. She stayed behind while I fetched help. The stranger warned us to leave again, and said we had disturbed 'them'."

[Shadowy_Figure(#14221)] From the northern sky, a light appears. Another flaming spear has taken flight, towards the sea. A flcikering, bright orange glow leaves an after image for those who their eyes stare too long at it. It lands far afield, impossibly high, like a mythical bird soaring high in the sky. Off to the west, the looming storm is held in check by an unseen force. All that can be seen is sheets of lightning that seem to make the distant horizon glow, arcing up to the tops of the thunderheads. So distant that no thunder is heard, yet bright enough to cause flashes of long shadows even at this distance.

And it seems that as soon as the flaming rocket is quenched by the unimpressed sea, another takes silent flight towards the same watery grave.

[Kiraz(#32438)]
"By the Heroes!" exclaims Fahir loudly, his deep voice booming amongst the ruins. His eyes are skyward and to the west whence the firey missile has disappeared. His hand grips the heft of his undrawn scimitar tightly. "What was that?"

[Greyl(#32351)] 
The chill of the sea air, and the offshore weather are lost, as the spears are flung skyward to the north. In the south, there is a figure who does little to call attention to himself and little to hide himself as well. Seated atop a low, squat mount, is a large man, broad-shouldered and thick-chested, his hands rest upon the pommel of his saddle, as he leans forward, watching for the moment, his attention focused on the camp, not on the sky.

[Alimah(#24218)]
"Generally speaking," Alimah says, "if a voice in the dark forest tells you to stay away...you ought to. Unless you've got an army of corsairs with you. And..." Whatever teh rest of that thought is is forgotten. "I don't know..." she says slowly in reply to the First Mate. "A shooting star? And who..." she's lookign southward, "is that?"

[Kiraz(#32438)]
"Not a fisherman by the looks of 'im," replies Fahir, his eyes narrowed. He draws his scimitar. "Could this man be the mystery behind all the strange doings here?"

[Greyl(#32351)] 
The mounted man seems to mark the eyes turned his way a sharp eye might catch the deep frown on his face, as he shifts in his saddle, kicking the horse into a walk, to amble forward, towards the camp.

[Alimah(#24218)]
"Seems to me we're about to find out?" Alimah answers, watching man and horse advance. She loosens her scimitar in its scabbard, but does not draw it.

[Kiraz(#32438)]
Fahir merely nods to his Captain, keeps his blade drawn and watches the man approach.

[Shadowy_Figure(#14221)] Far to the north, an unearthly noise is heard. As if all the discord and chaos of the world were given voice in a single burst of sound. And this sound does not go unanswered. More faintly, but still audible, the noise is repeated to the east, and the north, and variations on these directions, at different volumes. These alien noises trail off, having announced their locations, and distance.

[Greyl(#32351)] 
The rider's approach slows, as he comes to an easier distance to speak. His voice is roughly accented westron, "What is this, in the north, that you've brought?" he asks the fire in the sky seemed to hold little of his attention, but the strange noises, on the other hand, draw quick turns of his head.

Frowning deeper, his eyes squinted, he looks to the camp, and the armed men within. Shaken, his accent thickens slightly, as he speaks faster, "The folk hereabouts say y'er trouble, an' I'm startin' to believe 'em."

[Alimah(#24218)]
"We may be trouble, we might not," Alimah says. "Who are you and what's it to you?" she asks, stepping a pace ahead of the group. SHe stares at the man, then glances to the sky and toward the noises. "We're here to resupply and repair our ship and then we are on our way. Soon, depending on the weather. Things are...are too odd for my tastes."

[Greyl(#32351)] 
"An' I live'n those hills, yon," Greyle retorts, waving his hand roughly behind him, towards the south and west. "Its not much to share, an' I've a rabble of fishermen huddling about my fire, now. Was time to come have a look't why, no?"

His eyes now fix on the woman who speaks, frowning determination upon his face, "I wager you're not the cause of that," he says. at the sound of another noise, his gaze not shifting towards it anymore, as he examines the speaker.

[Alimah(#24218)]
"We're not the cause of that, no, and I don't like it," Alimah answers, attention directed toward the noises. "If you're from around here...but you have no idea what it is?"

[Greyl(#32351)] 
Greyl's frown deepens, "I've not seen nor heard it before. I dun' like it, either," he says, shifting his faze finally past the woman who speaks to him, and eying those behind. "If its trouble from the north, I'll say this. There's trouble in the south, too. Y'r drawin' dark things, wherever you've come from, gatherin' supplies'r stealin' from fishermen, whichever 'tis. There's clans they come from, won't take kindly to't. Y'll find trouble'n these lands, I don't doubt it. If it hasn't found ye already."

[Shadowy_Figure(#14221)] Now, from north of the city, a clamor arises. Metal on metal broken by the occasional distant shout. Tell tale signs of dust rise in the distance, out of sight, but not out of earshot. They cannot be more than a few hours away!

[Kiraz(#32438)]
Many of the corsairs have kept a wary eye on the north and the lastest round of noises catches the First Mate's attention.

He gazes that way now, frowning, then turns back to the mounted man. "Any of these clans big enough to raise an army?"

[Alimah(#24218)]
"Good question," Alimah notes dryly, now looking toward the noises as well, along with the dust cloud. "That's certainly something large...coming our way." She thinks for a moment, then nods slowly. "I'm not going to stay here until we find out what. We've a ship, the repairs are done. It's time to leave." She's already turning to do so as she finishes speaking, the unnamed Greyl already dismissed in her thoughts.

[Kiraz(#32438)]
If the Captain needs any further reason to leave, it comes soon. From the quay to the southwest, a young corsair runs towards the camp at full speed. The horseman garners a rather curious but distracted look from the boy but only for a moment. "Captain!" he addresses Alimah, gasping for air. "The Second Mate says we have to move the ship before the storm hits. He says the harbor is too silted over to ride it out. The sands could shift or channel the waves so that we are broken to pieces against the quay!"

[Greyl(#32351)] 
"There's nothin' but armies, in these hills," comes a quick answer, "The theiving horse-lords lick their wounds from them, often 'nuff." He, too, turns his eyes northwards, "I'd make haste. Men who know these lands won't take long to cross 'em. If you mean to fly from here, there's fishermen will be glad to find their homes, an' I'll be glad to find mine empty."

[Alimah(#24218)]
"Back to the ship! Now! We're setting sail!" Alimah shouts, turning so that all the corsairs can hear her order. "Anyone or anything not on board in an hour gets left, no questions asked." She looks toward Greyl and nods. "Thank you for the advice. And the use of your lands," she smirks. "Consider its return to you our parting gift." She delays no longer, heading back toward the quay.

[Shadowy_Figure(#14221)] Another round of the jarring noises begin, but closer! At this distance, it becomes clearer that these are not the braying of wild animals, but identically paired noises of some instrument of men. They announce how far from the dilapidated city they are. Close, but not atop the Corsairs, yet.

[Kiraz(#32438)]
"You heard the Captain!" bellows her First Mate. "Pack up and head for the ship!"

Suiting his actions to his words, Fahir strides over to the old abandoned warehouse they used for shelter and disappears behind the cloth that serves as their door.

[Tasnim(#16424)]
"Wait," Tasnim speaks up at long last, having thus far been merely listening to the clammer of approaching noises and the conversations. "What about Kiraz?" With a blank look to the stranger --perhaps disinterest could be seen therein -- the scribe dashes off in the direction Fahir has disppeared. Into the warehouse she follows, gone in a flutter of black garment.