Prelude part I: The StrangerMature

The Bluenymph slid effortlessly across the sea, on board the crew sings vulgar tavern songs as they went on with their daily work. After two weeks of harsh storms and a failed pirate attack, the whole of the ship shone with joy. The next day at most, they would have made it to landfall and the men and women of the crew would be free to roam the dock's taverns in search of much needed debauchery and rest.

"Land ahoy!" The vigil yelled from atop the crow's nest.

Captain Allen had seen a lot of tough trips but that one had taken the cake. He had scoured all the oceans but it had been his first trip to the island of Ushas, this one had taken every last part of skill he had to make it alive.

Even though he had not explored the land, only docked at the Imperial fort to bring a resupply run, he now had an idea of what the mysterious land hid. Having traded the equivalent of a man's yearly wage for the trip, he had agreed to take a new passenger despite the crew's reticence.

A good move,  the man had saved their ass in the corsair raid the previous week and hence held a grudging respect for the strange man from an even weirder place.

Since no one from his crew would speak to him, The captain made his way toward the stranger.

"Morning Sir... Vanir" He exclaimed, preventing himself from calling the being an elf at the last second, a mistake that had previously earned him a stabbed leg that had never quite healed well.

The Elf, or Vanir as they preffered being called didn't answer him, merely gazing at the city on the horizon, slowly growing closer. All the captain knew was his name; Malkav.

Altough he had meet many of the vanirs over the years, none were as outlandish as this one. The Elf stood nearly at seven foot, his skin a dark shade of purple and his teal colored hair had been shapen in a messy mohawk... Over his shoulder, he carried a strange bastard sword, made not of metal but from some odd wood.

"Is this your first time in Salabar?" The seafarer asked.

"Dead corpse of morals left to rot on the streets, a city who's people sell their honor like harlots sell their body. My kind of place." Malkav answered.

"Eh... I guess you could say that..." The captain commented, unsure of the word's meaning.

The Elf's luminous orange eyes crossed the Captain's before the former noted "Once your home, when blood and guilt flowed from your hand like a waterfall. Before you sported a cloak of honorability and gentlemanliness."

The Captain shivered, no one knew he had once himself been a corsair before he had reformed and joined the Imperial navy... The rest of the trip went on with a thick unerving silence between the two men. When the Nymph hit the dock, the Vanir left the ship, disappearing into the city's crowd.

The End

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