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The ship violently rocked as the waves crashed into the hull. The storm had come out of nowhere and lasted three days. Gareth stood at the helm, both hands tight on the wheel. Twice he had nearly been thrown from the wheel, endangering not only himself but the lives of his crew. The rain pooled and dripped from his bald head, the water soaked into his thick red beard, causing it to stream down into his lose fitting white shirt. The mixture of rain and sea water had soaked everything. The storm had washed away their entire haul with the first wave that crashed onto the deck. Several members of his crew had been washed overboard shortly after the storm began, leaving their jobs to be filled by the remaining crew. Gareth steered the fishing vessel directly into the waves, the ride was much rougher but there was less chance to cap-side. They were only a few hours from port but the storm had greatly delayed them, with the gale force winds blowing each and every direction made it difficult to keep the sails taunt, so Gareth had ordered them dropped, placing as many men as possible at the ores. They had managed to gain some speed but the constant change of direction had reduced it farther. How they were going to dock once they made it to port, he didn't know, he just hoped they could keep the ship afloat until he could figure it out. The wind picked up briefly, nearly knocking him from his feet, and as quickly as it had enveloped them it was gone, leaving the choppy waters to relax once again. The dark gray sky cleared and the sun began to peak through the clouds, shining down on the now calm, shimmering waters. Gareth walked from the helm, to the upper deck overlooking the crew. They looked up at him, appearing relieved to be out of the storm. After a moment he calmly spoke, “Joesph, take two men and survey the ship, the rest of you, raise the sails and ready to make port.” Several of the men sounded, “Aye, Captain!” before setting off to preform their various task. Gareth turned and walked back to the helm, grabbed the rope near the wheel and tied it off. “Navigator get up here and take the wheel, I’m going to find out exactly where we are. I’d like to get to my wife and child sometime soon.” One of the men assisting with the sail broke off and made his way into the helm, untied and took the wheel. Gareth walked across the upper deck and made his way to his quarters.

The signal fire, marking the port town of Everik, was little more than a speck on the horizon. The large vessel slid across the surface of the water as if it were a hot knife cutting through butter, Gareth stood at the helm, his arms folded across his body, watching, waiting, drawling ever closer to home. The dock was just ahead, usually packed to capacity, now was nearly empty, only two ships were docked. Gareth took in the sight, something was wrong, he had never seen the port so bare, so empty, this was the largest port town for at least a month, it had never had less than twenty ships in the harbor, why is was so deserted was an unknown and concerning thought. The harbor master was awaiting them when the ship docked, Gareth had been the first off the ship once the mooring ropes had been wrapped. “Captain D'Averon, I'm glad to see that you made it through that strange storm.” The harbor master was an older man, ready to relinquish his duties to someone younger but he had found it difficult to find a suitable replacement. “Master Merrick, why is the port so bare? Has something happened?” The old man dropped his cheerful guise, “We were attacked three nights ago, they came out of nowhere, from every direction. The guards were taken completely by surprise. It didn’t take any time at all before they had overrun the entire town. The creatures captured several people, and killed many more. Those of us that are still alive either hid or fled. Nearly all of the supplies have been taken. They came three times, always at night, each time they claimed more and more people and supplies. Come to think of it, that strange storm started shortly before they arrived.” Gareth listened intently. “And my family, do you know anything of them?” he asked with fear in his voice. “I'm sorry sir but we've been too busy attempting to get everything repaired to gather an accurate count of survivors. All I can say is I have not seen….” his words were cut off as Gareth turned and broke into a full sprint to his home. He reached the door which had been busted in, the broken pieces laying on the wood plank floor. He drew his cutlass and slowly walked into the house, looking for any sign of his family. The lanterns that usually illuminated the room had been knocked from their resting places, laying broken on the floor. The few candles had burned out, leaving a trail of wax hanging from their fixtures. The table that usually sat in the center of the main room had been over turned, the ornaments that rested in the center scattered across the room. Gareth felt a pain rush through him as he walked around the table to find a torn piece of his wife's favorite dress bunched up on the floor, a small amount of blood next to it. He grabbed hold of the light blue fabric, clenched his fist tight around it and closed his eyes. The rage built inside him, he was overflowing with it and suddenly a thought came to him, he suddenly knew his family was still alive and exactly where they were. He opened his eyes, tucked the torn cloth into his sash and marched up the stairs toward his room. The door was closed when he approached it, without slowing he lifted his leg and gave the sturdy door a hard kick, it flew open, sending parts of the door frame flying across the room. He turned left and there it was, the exact thing he intended to retrieve. The armor had been awarded to him by his captain when he took control of his own ship, it had been a custom among the locals, one that he never understood, but had planned to honor if he ever promoted one of his men. The gray and black leather was stiff, he had worn it the day he had become a captain but since then it had remained on the stand, undisturbed for several years. The once shiny steel circlets that reinforced it were now dull and slightly corroded but they would serve their purpose, even in their current state. Gareth quickly pulled the armor over himself, tightening it to him by the draw strings lacing up both sides. He opened the wardrobe and removed a thick leather belt, adorning it with the sheath to his cutlass and belt pouch. He wrapped the belt around him looping the tail to prevent it from loosening. He returned to the docks, marching intently toward the harbor master, “Merrick, what did the creatures look like?” he asked, dropping all formalities. The old man, caught off-guard by the question turned to address Gareth, “Capt…..”, he was cut off again, “What did they look like?” Gareth shouted, the anger in him rising. “I…I didn't get a good look, I know they were hard to see, all but their white hair. You might ask Adrian Blakner over at the bakery, he barely got away from them last night, if any one got a good look at they it would be him.” Gareth turned and marched to the bakery. He busted through the doors giving little care to the people nearby. “Adrian, I need to know what the creatures look like.” he announced. The young man behind the counter looked barely old enough to run the shop. He jumped at the loud bang and backed up as Gareth made his way toward him. With little effort Gareth grabbed hold of his tunic and lifted him off the ground, “I need to know what the creatures looked like.” he demanded. The young man began to speak but was so frightened he couldn’t get the words out. Gareth slammed him into the wall, released his left hand and slapped the man across his cheek. “Speak!” he yelled. “I…I saw th…them.” Gareth heard liquid hit the floor underneath the man. He glared into the shop keeper's eyes and spoke in a slow, quite tone, “What did they look like?” Shaking, he replied, “They were black, their skin was…was black. Their hair was white, some…some of them had long hair, others had short. They had magic, they could cloak themselves in darkness, it looked like a sphere, a sphere of darkness…they used the night to get close and then once they could attack they would appear and…” he began to cry. “They took my mother.” he sobbed. Gareth shook him, attempting to regain his attention, “What kind of weapons did they have?” The young man looked paused and looked directly at Gareth, “They had all kinds of weapons, mostly swords but it was a wide variety.” “How many of them were there?” He began to sob again, “There were hundreds of them, they came out of nowhere, took what they wanted and disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. Please, that’s all I know.” he begged. Gareth released him, letting him fall several inches to the ground, he turned and stormed from the bakery.

Gareth interrogated several of the survivors, each one resistant to recall the attack but eventually he gathered enough information to determine the creatures whereabouts. He was standing near a row of trees overlooking a cave structure. He made his way down and into the cavern, it was unnaturally dark once inside but somehow he was able to see as clear as he could in the daylight. The large corridor seems to go on forever, he could feel the temperature changing as he got deeper. The smell of moist dirt and rock radiated from the cavern. The ancient passageways were jagged and narrow but he continued through, letting his rage fuel him. Suddenly he stopped, drew his cutlass and waited. A moment later two of the beings that had been described to him were standing a few feet away from him, unaware of his presence. They were talking but he couldn’t understand what they were saying. He noticed their ears were pointed like that of the elves, in fact every aspect of them reminded him of the elves say for the color of their hair and skin. Without hesitating he raised his short, curved blade and charged the two creatures. They were completely caught off-guard, Gareth smashed into the closest, knocking him to the ground, he swung his blade at the second, catching him in the throat. He recovered and brought the blade down into the chest of the now prone creature. It gargled blood, spitting its vile language at him before shuttering and remaining still. Gareth spat on the creature, took a knee beside the first and sliced a ear of each one. He stood, placed the ears in his pouch and continued down the cavern. Several more ears were added to the pouch before he made it to a large opening, the creatures wandering in every direction. These creatures had apparently built a city beneath the ground, he had heard of the ancient dwarven cities, but these creatures obviously weren’t dwarfs, and their structures didn’t match the descriptions he had heard. Many things were racing through his head, most were unanswered questions that created more questions, there was one, however that he knew for certain, each and every one of these creatures was going to die and he was going to be the one to make sure that happened. Gareth waited in a small crevice, he watched for several hours, studying, planning, waiting for the perfect opportunity to slaughter them all. He had watched for several days learning their routines. They all appeared to use magic to some extent but a few were more reliant on it than others. Gareth noticed another type of creature among these already mysterious beings, this other type looked just like the first but instead of having two legs, they had eight legs that resembled those of a giant spider. They stayed near the central point of the city, something there seemed to keep their attention, something that could be very valuable if obtained. Gareth had noticed a steady supply of good, most likely stolen from other towns and villages, the creatures carried it into the large central building and left moments later. The captured humans were also brought near the central building but they were taken into a strange looking tower beside it. Gareth looked around, making sure he could move without being seen. He had thought of trying to sneak through the creatures but his large frame could never pass for these tall, slender creatures. A distraction was going to be his best option. He reached down and picked up a rock, large enough to have an impact but small enough to be thrown. He reared back, selected his target and launched it. The rock flew a great distance from him, crashing into one of the many huts, the rock tore through the cloth and supports making it collapse on top of the small fire pit. Within moments the thick cloth was burning, it soon spread to the next hut, and the one after than, until that entire section was ablaze. The creatures scrambled to put the ever-growing fire out. Gareth threw the hood of his thick wool cloak over his head and made his way through the chaos toward the tower the prisoners had been taken to, Once inside he saw several of the humanoid creatures chanting in a circle, several people laying dead in the center of them. He looked around the room, seeing many prisoners still alive, chained to the walls. He glanced at each survivor, his family evading his sight. The creatures looked up at him, “Sieth riear tyrian mar seir” one of them hissed. Gareth dropped his hood, revealing his bald head. “Where is my family?” he demanded, raising his sword. The creatures began laughing as they turned toward him. Gareth let out a war-cry and charged the closest one. He swung his blade with precision, cutting and hacking everything that came within his reach. He felt the rage inside him turn to pleasure with each one he killed. He made his way through the tower, every creature he encountered perished, a single ear being removed and placed in his pouch. The prisoners called to him once he had killed their captures, begging and pleading to be released, he ignored their cries, focusing only on locating his family. Gareth search the piles of bodies, his heart racing as he dug through the mounts of cold, bloody victims. A loud ringing came to his ears, blocking out all other noise, as he uncovered a patch of light blue cloth. He pulled and threw the bodies from the pile, attempting to expose the body wrapped in the familiar cloth. His heart sank as he pulled the last obscuring body, revealing his wife's fearfully blank face, her body beaten and violated, the light blue dress she was wearing had been ripped open and covered in blood. Her throat had been slit so deeply that only a small bit of flesh held her head in place. He looked down to see his infant child wrapped so tightly in her arms he had turned a blue-purple, the color still present on his cold skin. Gareth pulled their lifeless bodies close, holding them tight. The loud ringing gained speed, blocking all other perception from him, and then faded away into silence as a single tear rolled down his face. He looked around the room, seeing the prisoners yelling to him, begging to be released, but he couldn’t hear their words, couldn’t hear anything except a slow pulse, as if a drum was being pounded at a distance. The steady yet slow beat told him what he had to do. He released his family, stood and started toward the tower door. One of the prisoners grabbed his arm as he passed, Gareth turned, a flash or red in his eyes. The prisoner released him, rushing to get as far away from him as possible, as did the others near him, being restricted only by the chains that bound them. He walked out the doorway, no care for discretion any longer. At once he heard the vile tongue of the creatures as he stepped into sight, there had to be more than three hundred in this city, a large portion of that all headed straight for him. Gareth raised his sword as a smile form on his lips.

Gareth finished loading his ship, the hold had been filled with gold and treasure of all kinds. His crew had been split, many of them having lost their families as he had, chose to stay on, sailing across the sea to a new and unexplored land. The rest had aided the villagers in reclaiming their goods from the now vacant cavern. The surrounding towns had sent convoys every day for nearly a week claiming the goods the creatures had taken from them, as they had Everik. The survivors had been freed and returned to their homes. Gareth notice many of them had been avoiding him, he didn’t care, they had no reason to talk to him, even if he was responsible for their freedom. He waited at the helm of his ship for the last of his crew to board. They cut the mooring ropes and raised the anchor, manning the ores they pushed the ship away from the harbor. Once free from the shallow waters the sails were released, they flapped in the breeze for a few minutes until the wind caught them, pulling them taunt. The ship lunged forward and continued to pick up speed. Gareth barked orders, his crew following without question. Only minutes had passed and they were already beyond sight of the port. Gareth let the distance wash away his care for anything, he only had one purpose now, Kill them all, no exceptions!