Even before sunrise their was always much afoot along the quay of El Lay. There appears to be none of that as you stroke silently into the bay.
Still hidden by the shadowy darkness of pre-dawn you approach the quay off to your left lies chained the Dark Ship with Black Sails a soft and steady lapping is heard as the waves break upon the waterline. carved in large arcing letters across the stern is the word E M P E R O R.
Roll. Wis- there is missing the usual smells of the early morning… Bread… Wood… Work…
Roll Int-,There is a shrill whistling of an early morning bird… Only it isn’t quite an early morning bird… Sparks… it sounds like Sparks the sound he would always make when he was warning you off of his hunt.
He got the nickname Sparks from always making his arrowheads… the sparks flying as he honed and struck down the flint to the perfect shape and size.
From the sound of it, hes in the close encroaching jungle past the end of the dock town proper.
Pulling the battered launch to shore they are set upon by filthy, sailors.
Amid the sounds of combat, from the bay rises a single clang. One Bell. The end of the dog watch. Four hours till dawn.