TOLL TO BE PAID

[helldiving 5793]

TOLL TO BE PAID

The Sea-Reavers.
10th of the Sun’s Smile, 1768

 

---

 

The oceans buzzed with dormant strength, crashing along the shores of Aeldin. Waves, crawling gently towards the sea-shells surrounding the beaches of Arcas -- a foreign wasteland, without habitants who could roam in peace. Abundant power harnessed by the sea quavered the aquatic creatures within, as the bridge between the continent of Aeldin and the noble countries of Arcas  lay connected by strings - the puppeteer and mastermind of this strand, the Prince of Vilachia.

 

On the ebbing tides, a large caravel sat idly along the storms above -- cursed by the Gods to beckon the whispers of Iblees. ‘The Mother’, it was, one that was the personal pet of the Prince of Vilachia. Flags raised the caravel as it boasted the name: steeds of House Vilac -- a lineage of Horen not spoken of commonly. Surrounding the mighty war vessel, numerous galleons and pinnaces enchanted the illuminating waters, lesser in being as they followed on suit ‘The Mother’ as children, bore by the flags of black. The corsair-gang of Vilac continued to hold the shores and oceans of Aeldin and Arcas in their palm, only letting through those who could pay their hefty toll.

 

Eventually, ire settled the gaze of both the Prince of Vilachia and the Captain of ‘The Mother’, noticing a foreign party of galleons -- numbering around two -- fleeing past the Aeldin coast and heading towards Arcas. The corsair vessels drilled themselves through the waves, heading towards the parasites that attempted to invade their oceans, anger in their heart. Of course, as all settlements work in the oceans of Aeldin and Arcas, they would settle the toll given. A thunderous horn boomed from ‘the Mother’, allowing for the two galleons to make halt. Though, an unusual response came instead.

 

The galleons crashed through the waves and attempted to flee the numbered and mighty corsairs, but the Prince of Vilachia was not one to be played. Gesturing to his Captain, the hefty sails shook against the winds of GOD as the caravel set to the scum attempting to flee. The crude tone of the corsairs echoed out their vessels, as commands to ‘release’ were heard. Metal spat out the war vessels, shifting to ram one of the galleons, breaking the shaft of the boats as the oceans came to clean up the damage.

 

However, upon the luck of the devil; Iblees allowed one to escape the grasp of Vilachia. It seems that the galleon that escaped did not even notice the corsairs, as if drunkards who were unaware of their surroundings, docking at the shores of Arcas.

---

 

 

---

 

“Who let them go?”, questioned the Prince of Vilachia, sabre ramming into one of the spare boards nearby closest to the mast. 

 

The captain of the corsairs, Jukotor, stared onwards at the mighty Vilachian, both hands on the helm of the caravel, continuing to shift across the waves. “Your Highness, they focused too long on the galleon behind. Apologies, the other friggs from Arcas have returned though.” He continued onwards. “Do we set sail to collect the toll that is to be paid?”, inquiring towards the Prince of Vilachia.

 

“Of course, good captain. These are our waters. One slipped by, we will not allow such.” The eyes of the Prince shifting out towards the horizon. “We will find them, and will make sure to get our toll. Though, let us double the toll -- no, let us make them pay ten times. Ten times, one for you, one for me, and the others for our ships.”, his sabre breaking through the board from before. 

 

“I understand, Your Highness. I understand.”, before shaking his hand against the helm yet again. “And what of the pretenders, Prince of Vilachia? They claimed your name, and your titles. The inbred and false Vilac. The Imperial Emperor denounced them, though the pretenders still owe the Emperor a hefty sum.”, the eyes of the Captain hitting the sails above -- staring proudly at the true banner of Vilac.

 

“More drama already? I will thank the Emperor -- and we will pay these pretenders a visit. Though, that doesn’t matter for now.”, he gestured out towards the Captain. “Let us go, my good friend. Sail to the countries. Let us return once more.”

 

And so, the sails of House Vilac rose higher than ever -- the clouds spared the sight of the corsairs, as ‘the Mother’ set sail. The other corsairs were held back, to continue collecting tolls until they returned.

 

Eventually, after a couple days passed through their travels, one of the corsair friggs met the caravel mid-journey. Providing information on the ruberni-harbourers holding the escapees on sea -- the lineage of House de Bar it was! The Prince of Vilachia would smile the sun's smile, before mustering words. 

 

“Perhaps we finally found our toll.”

 

---

 

 

---

 

To the Imperial Archchancellor, Simon Basrid KCS,

 

It seems we have a common enemy in this matter: Rubern seems to be on your mark, for they are vagabonds and deserve to be thrusted upon. Yet, the coin lays in the palm of their hands, stolen from the ships in my steed.

 

Though, I have yet to communicate to those of the imperial state, I see an opportunity to collude and converse. I will dock in the eastern reaches of your land, and we will arrive in your capital to talk. I hope you have a good day, Sir Simon Basrid. Let us not meet by the sword, but let us meet with a fine cup of  your rhenyar-tea.

 

Antonius Martius, The Prince of Vilachia, Duke of Krajia, Margrave of Styria, Lord of Vilacz

 

Jukotor, Captain of ‘the Mother’

 

 

[Werew0lf 24181]

Upon penning the letter in the name of the Prince of Vilachia --- Jukotor, the Captain of the Sea-Reavers, pulled himself off the seat within the caravel. His green-hued gaze shifting to the Vilac momentarily. “We have arrived, your highness. I will make way first.”, and upon saying such – would step into Arcas.

[Junar 808]

Heahmund Bren stood among his crewmates and by the Prince of Vilachia on the bridge of the ship, preparing to return home.

[Ryloth 4321]

“Yaargh.” The Kha’Pantera says before biting into the fruit of an orange.

[HadvarAvMitteland 557]

Hadvar signs the Lorraine, praying for the safety of the Ruberni, however this time Darrowmere will not come to their aid...

[Axelu 4333]

A deceased Pertinaxi woman, the Princess Vitus of Man, revels from above.

[TheNunnery 1853]

“How the game of thrones goes, turns and twist like the ocean’s waves.”  Sabrina, sipped her tea, as the young Halcourt, read of the current events after the hanging of the Rubern Wench. Lady Halcourt then saying with a sigh, taking another sip. “But the smell of war is coming everyday..”

 

Lilianne, sorting the medical supplies of the medical tent in fort buck. The doctor saying. “Ah yes, another bit-“ The woman would censor herself from saying a vile word. “From another land, well guess boomhill the second part is coming for Rubern!” Lilianne laughed right after the last part, having a sad look in her face a couple seconds after.

[Christ 939]

Christ frowns.

[kuerbis 3802]

Thea shifted in her seat, glancing at the paper. She'd read through it twice before anxiously shifting her gait to her two peacefully playing children. The woman rose from her chair, walking over to them. She'd ruffle Ferdinand's hair and placed a kiss on Gwendolyn's forehead. The woman smiled as the duo hugged her eagerly, on the inside though, Thea was nervous. Nervous that another war may ensue soon.