Corsair stood on a scared land scape of burnt homes twisted and deformed trees and faule stagnit air was thick and rip with the scent of unbeared dead.<br/><br/>Corsair: "Another village lost to the war at this rate the world will be like a roted frute be for the war ends......"<br/><br/>He look in to the thick storm cloudes thundering above him as it started to rain.<br/><br/>Corsair: "The day just keeps gitting better don't it."<br/><br/>He started walking on ward.