<b><br/>
About five minutes before disaster strikes.</b><br/><br/><a class="externalLink" href="http://fc02.deviantart.net/images/large/indyart/indymisc/Old_Pirate.jpg" target="_blank">Murlog</a>shuffled quietly over the deck of his ship as gritted his yellowing black teeth against the cold freshly sharpened steel of his blade. He smiled, feeling a trickle of blood dripping down his chin as his skin stretched a little to close to the stainless steel of his cutlas. The pirate barely noticed the pain, only the taste of iron blood upon his tongue that he savoured with a hunger for more. His eyes were fixated on the small flickering lights of a ship a few knots away on the sea he crossed. Their men had seen the billowing black smoke of the forest from far away, and were now sailing with an inhuman speed, most probably magically aided by their sorcerers to visit the place of distress. The captain was wondering what had caused the smoke, until he could see the ships filled with Aviari going into the direction of Gha'mos. It was unfortunate that they were out of his reach, but he knew they would not carry much of value anyway.<br/><br/>He was interested in the smallest ship that seemed to go into an opposite direction, for all he knew the tribes of those bloody birds were not one to leave others behind. His face was twisted in that crooked smile and took his knife in his still working hand to carve a rune of chaos into the deteriorated and splintered wood of the wheel of his ship. He could sense the warm proximity of a body not far behind him, and figured it could only be one person on this ship that was able to creep up behind him as silently as the night.<br/><br/>''We be not far away from th' bounty any more. What have ye seen on th' ship, Melassa? ye be not one to show ye face upon deck just before battle.''<br/><a class="externalLink" href="http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2013/030/0/3/born_from_the_sands_by_m_jenai-d5t8wxw.jpg" target="_blank"><br/>
The woman</a>that seemed to appear of consisting only out of shadows and a strange gas formation suddenly solidified before the captains eyes. Murlog was not surprised by this feat of dark magic, but merely twisted his finger in the air around a curl of her hair that was not yet solid enough. Wisps of smoke dissipated around his hand and the man looked at her eyes that were nothing more than dark pools of black rippling water.<br/><br/>'' I gots seen mo'e troubled minds den ya' gots encountered in yo' life, captain. De load dey carry be nodin' mo'e den food and supplies, but da damn troubles dat surround dem would be mo'e den enough t'stea' away fum sir. Ah be baaad... Dere be a gal on de ship, she be cursed beyond wo'ds t'describe, and she frightens me. ah' warn ya', find different boozes t'sail, and oda' ships t'plunder, but leave dis one t'its own, Murlog. ''<br/><br/>Murlog grinned his despicable and horrific looking smile at her as he used the filthy nail of his pinky to twist and squirm out a wriggling worm stuck between his teeth. Once caught, he flipped it away with a flick of his hand into the sea towards the ship he had turned his eyes back on.<br/><br/>''We need th' grub. 'n slittin' th' throat 'o a lass be easy, cursed or not. We would probably doin' her favour as well. Why don't ye be off downstairs 'n look at our guests?''<br/><br/>Murlog did not turn to see the hard and frowned look of the warlocks face burning in his back. He knew she was not happy with his words, but the curiosity to what lies in that dark wooden ship always won from the wise advice the woman gave him. He loved that girl more then his own ship, nevertheless he never listened to her and they always seemed to survive.<br/><br/>Melissa turned and dissipated into thin air again, leaving her captain wondering about what horrors she might have seen. It can't be worse then what he has encountered, he thought, as the woman reappeared beyond his knowledge in the captains cabin, looking at the captured slaves from previous plunderers.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>