Somewhere on Gobiath, you can hear the sound of metal on stone. Your eyes wander in the direction of southern Greenbriar, where there is nothing, but green mist and smoke in the air, and the foul stench of death.
But is this really an army of the undead?
If you wander through the green forests of Greenbriar and turn south, you come closer to the sounds.
Or is this another, older evil? You can not quite say for sure, but you have heared stories of undead armies quite often in this lands, and they were always beaten. Is this some cliche way of another mindless minion of the bloodlord?
You can hear, that the sounds are coming from the south - behind the greater wall of tombstones.
Whatever evil lies there - they are digging fast and loud.
When the volcano exploded, everything went black - full of ash and dust. Those foolish people who stood around crawled through the dust, irritated and wounded. And from the ships in the water, Negros was watching and laughing.
After the smoke and the dust was mostly gone, he entered his new home the first time. He examined the large halls and nodded shortly to his minions.
Sailing two days after the raid on the 'Fish-eaters', South by South-west, the "Ghost" had passed the 'Three Sisters' and had just rounded the unoccupied southern coast of Gobiath.
The early morning sun shone brightly and warmed the Captain's blood as he stood by the Quarterdeck railing. The captain had just relieved his navigator after a long night of sightings, and welcomed the fresh breeze. Watching his crew scurry about the deck with their morning duties, he contented himself with the knowledge that they were the finest crew he had ever sailed with. He has known many shipmates..... and had lost many shipmates as well. Too many.
Such is the price of experience.
The captain began to remember some of their faces, when suddenly, a 'Boom' vibrated across the waters from the west, startling the Captain and the crew.
"Hands to Quarters!" the Captain bellowed, and the crew scattered. Not disorderly, but choreographed through years of experience and seamanship. Every hand knew his place. Weapons were distributed and hands went to the braces. The Captain, satisfied, looked about for the cause. The boom was large and distant, this much he knew, but from where?
Soon, a dark, grey shape arose from the western horizon, growing skyward as if being 'pulled up' by the sun. The captain had only seen this one other time in all his years. He knew a Volcano had erupted. Long ago, he had seen a village become buried in ash, smoke and lava. Wiped clean from the surface.
Would this 'village' suffer the same fate? This 'Greenbriar'.
"Stand down" he ordered his crew. He then turned to the helmsman, "Set course due West by North-west". With an assenting nod "Aye", the helmsman turned the large wheel on the quarterdeck. As he did so, hands scurried up the ratlines, hands on ropes, began to coax the sails to the endless tune of the wind. With a lurch, the Captain knew they had harnessed the wind. The "Ghost" was now 'gliding' over the waves in her endless, yet beautiful dance with the Sea.
The Captain was a rogue and a scoundrel, this his enemies knew. However, his friends knew better. He would never let anyone die that didn't deserve it.
"We'll see about this village.....", the Captain muttered to himself.
After a day of sailing, the "Ghost" approached the small island which produced this Volcanic plume.
The Captain, asleep in his cabin, was alerted by a crewmember once the Isle was in sight. He awoke with a start, grabbed his coat and dashed up the small ladder leading to the Main Deck. There he entered the shine of the setting sun, low on the western horizon, providing the mountainous volcanic cloud a fearful, reddish glow. The volcano was still venting it's heat upon the air, but slightly subdued now.
Looking toward starboard, the Captain took note of a small village, it's few lights being lit in the near twilight. Several small buildings, a small fishing boat and a small campfire by the creek were all he could see.
All it took was another look at the Volcano and a glance at the Village, so near to it, and the Captain had a plan. "Drop Anchor", the Captain said, and the hands complied. He then ordered a longboat to be lowered, and some crew to man it. While his crew were doing this, he went to his cabin to fetch some paper and his quill. Hurridly, he wrote a note, dashed upon Deck, and gave it to his first mate with some instruction. His first mate, having understood the instructions, took the note, descended into the boat and ordered the men to row toward the Village.
The sounds of the longboat descended into the falling darkness. The Volcano, now enshrouded in darkness, had an 'otherworldly' glow, springing from the ground like a gaping, bleeding wound. Every now and then, the captain could almost swear there were some 'beings' moving around or even within the glow. "If they want to kill themselves..." he thought.
Pacing the deck awaiting the return of his longboat, the Captain made rounds on the men, encouraging their morale and dispelling fear of the Volcano. The ship was far enough away if anything happened. Then, sounds of the longboat arrived near the side of the ship, and his first mate scrambled up the side to meet his Captain. All he said was, "It is done Capin'". The Captain nodded.
