The Prime Of The Outcasts

Prologue

The treacherous nightfall hid beneath a burden of sheer black obscurity. The heavens had opened up and released a heavy downfall of torrential rain on the small village of Tarmonty. Thick bolts of lightening accompanied the sound of disruptive thunder claps that boomed every few minutes. Several frail houses on the coast were experiencing the most dangerous weather they had ever been made to stand through, in centuries. The working-class occupants of the houses could only sigh from their cottage windows, sipping at the remainders of their rationed tea and counting the few pennies that jingled in their tatty work pockets. Loyal husbands stood protectively beside their wives as they tried to entertain their children, shaken by the corruptions in winds rhythm change.

The weather wasn't  the only thing downing the spirits of the usual happy townfolk though. Deafening thunderstorms and the blinding streaks of lightening was not an abnormal thing in an unfamiliar town off the coast of Primrose Beach. That was just one of those unfortunate cases of bad luck.

No. It was the fact that this particular tempest was a warning. A warning that "the people" were coming. A warning that if something wasn't done soon, "the people" would take action again. If you're wondering who they are, It's a top secret organisation of Masterminds that abduct the people of Tarmonty, (well, as several journalists would put it). God knows what happened to the unlucky ones).

But nobody has yet to find a piece of solid evidence proving who these sociopaths are. They've been extra careful in not addressing a name. But what the innocent town civilians are interested in finding out is, what do they want with such a poor and provincial town? It wasn't drowning in mounds of gold or silver. It wasn't home to royalty, (all there is, is a dictating government that demands unaffordable taxes from the poor residents anticipating their untimely demise).

It wasn't as if they possessed special people as far as they were aware of. Everyone was just plain and downright ordinary. No-one has yet to express a supernatural talent of some sort. They're people hanging about street corners everyday though, tricking people into believing their silly card tricks are proper magic. But no - everybody knows that magic is non existent - some crafty persons idea of a joke, I presume. But like I said, nothing has yet to happen. Who knows? Someone could uncover the truth about why these disappearances are happening, and what the fate of Tarmonty is looking to be.