War of the First Age

XIV: Shall have a dark rebirth

1A, 937Y

Anni Opal-Slate

Parry ran up to the blacksmith in Anni Opal-Slate, daylight breaking over the far eastern walls on the city; with a bundle of broken weapons in his arms.

"Good day sir, how may I help you" The smith asked Parry, he was a tall bronzed man, his black beard filled with sweat and dirt. Parry handed him the broken weapons and spoke up.

"I need these swords reforged into one, similar design to my old one"

"Of course" The Smith said, and then noticed the blood on Parry's armour. "Are you okay, my King?" he asked, concern in his voice.

"Yep, I'm okay, I need a stiff drink" Parry replied, his voice tired.

"Alright, my King, I'll send you a message once it's ready, it will be right within the next two days" The Smith said, still concerned about Parry. He nodded at the man and staggered off towards the tavern.

Songs and grog surrounded Captain Mill as he woke up on the deck of King Parry's ship. Blackveil ships around him were still on fire, though most had been sunk already. The orcs which survived the sinking of their ships made their way to shore and hurried off in the direction of their base. But most were put down while they rested and gasped for breath. The Anni Opal-Slate Rangers patrolled the beach and cleared up those who had been washed up. Mill sat up and looked around, some of the defensive ships of the harbour were slightly on fire but were being put out, many of the crew tended to those who had suffered wounds during the battle; though luckily Parry's ship seemed unscathed.

"Captain Mill" one of the sailors approached him.

"Aye?" He said in reply looking up at him, the bright sunlight in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked; his apparel now noticeable at the Skyrulean Navy armour.

"Yeah, I'm good" the captain replied, picking up a bottle of rum and pulling the cork out with his teeth.

"Good. Captain we have routed the Blackveil fleet and our armada is regrouping at Crystal-Slate, after chasing the rest of those orcs out of our borders" the sailor continued. Mill spat the cork onto the deck and took a swig from the bottle, shaking his head as it cleared his mind.

"Alright, what are we waiting for?" Mill asked.

"Orders sir, where do you want us to go?" the sailor said.

"Alright, head towards the rendezvous with our armada" Mill said, stretching his arms and slumping forward after it, scratching his belly with his free hand, from the other he took another swig.

"Of course" The sailor replied and placed his hands behind his back and walked off, calling out orders. "Half sail, we're going to meet the armada"

"On the way sir"

"Setting course, Lieutenant"

"Half sail Lieutenant"

"Do you want the colours raised Sir?"

"Raise 'em" The Lieutenant replied and stood next to the sailor on the wheel.

The ship pulled out of the harbour and headed towards the rest of the Skyrulean ships. The flag ship sailed into a thick fog, unable to see where they were going, Captain Mill sailed towards the thundering noise, coming from where the rendezvous was supposed to be. More thundering was heard as the ship got closer to the point. Captain Mill peered through the fog and saw ghostly echoes of ships sailing around the fog; the thundering louder and louder. Suddenly the ship lurched to one side as if it was hit by cannon fire and the fog cleared slightly.