The sky darkened on the horizon and the win sped up blowing back the cape of the middle aged man who stood with his black leather boot upon the side rail of the ship. His hand hung on the suport line of the mizzen mast. Lady luck never favored this man so he made his own luck. The black dark blue cape that blew fully in the wind now revealed blue swashbuckler attire which belied the reinforced leather and chainmail beneath it. It was a night like this which started this mad adventure years ago.
His well kept goetee was as black as the rest of his now shoulder length hair. Hi weathered skin seemed to accentuate the sadness within his blue eyes which changed with all the colors of the sea and all the rich complexities of the northern ice. Gulls rushed past the ship escaping the storm. Lightning flashed in the distance and he stared at it like an old adversary. The blades at his side would not avail him. The sea was a cruel mistress that could not be tamed but such feable constructs. The port of New Thalos was visible on the horizon though and nothing would prevent him from setting foot on the soil of his homeland. Not this time. The Bell in the port rang out and he could just hear it due to how far the wind could carry the sound. It was the same bell which he had lost site and sound of so many years ago.
(Zelgadis' thoughts shift to the past)
The knife plunged into wood, the long blade sinking halfway into the ships hull beneath the strong well muscled arm of the now shirtless and armorless knight. Crimson blood mixed with salt water and stung the mans eye which had suffered a terrible gash. He pulled himself out of the sea, now colored black in the tumoltuous storm. The red ribbon which had once held the knife to his arm blew freely in the wind, whipping at his wrist. Staring back at the storm through his one good eye he cursed at the storm. The grand ship which was once his flagship of his merchant fleet and this storm had lifted it out of the sea and thrown it like a grain of sand.
He searched the horizon, rain falling down slower now, the sea becoming more calm. There were no ships on the horizon, no sailors swimming for their lives. No gulls, nothing but the cruel black sea.
(His thoughts return to the present)
It was 5 years ago. Five damned years since he'd seen this port. The port was rapidly approaching, an airship guiding their path with powerful makou floodlights. As they came about to a dock, sailors threw large ropes over the side and he jumped the few feet to the dock. He marched down long pier, cape still billowing behind him. The dockmaster was in a small stone hut at the end of the docks where it became dry land.
"Business or Pleasure Sir," The dockmaster greated him.
"Both, I'm here to take back what's mine." Zegladis stared down the cowardly man with his one good eye and the man sat down in his chair. He tossed coins at him to pay the docking fees and made his way to the center of town to find more travel arrangements.
