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A Quiet Harbor

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johnnydeath6

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  • The Sea of the bay stood still, a passerby could smell the salt on the air mingling with the stench of fish from nearby stalls.

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  • The night air was still, as fog from the bay snuck aboard the decks of the ships at anchor in the harbor to bask in the pale moonlight. A figure made its way from the shadows boarding a certain ship, one with red sails, climbing over the railing. The young man knelt trying to lockpick his way below decks, sighing with frustration before eventually kicking in the hatch guarding the stairs. 
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  • He made his way down through the gun deck, past the canons now sleeping dragons, once mighty fire flew with great roars now their bores lay cold and silent. The figure delved his way into the bowels of the ship finding his way into the cargo hold, the only source of light being from the grates overhead allowing the moon to grin down upon him.

    As he searched around, he discovered a large chest hidden amongst the crates and barrels of the hold. Upon attempting to open it, the lid rattled with a dull thunk refusing to budge.
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           After a moment, the figure noticed the lock, an opening that matched his necklace, pulling the bauble from his neck and inserting it into the lock it came undone with a twist and the lid came free opening to reveal a cache of heirlooms, clothes and blades. Atop the pile sat a parchment, once sealed with a hard button of red wax, now bound shut with a red bandana. 

 

Pulling the bandana off and unrolling the parchment, the figures' eyes raced across the page taking in every word. Once he finished, the man took the bandana and wrapped it around his forehead, tying it off in the back, then taking one of the cutlasses and securing it to his sword belt before placing everything else back within the chest.

 

 Making his way back up to the top deck the figure made his way to the helm resting one of his hands upon it with a firm grip, "The Thorn is under my command," he spoke out into the night air.

 

 


 

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