Peiratís; Pirates of the Sandy Sea

Barus looked through it, then heard his stomach growl. He then realized that, in a city of pirates, stealing wasn’t exactly a good idea, as people would likely already know all the ‘tricks of the trade,’ and he was more likely to get caught then food.

Eolas reached for his notebook, then remembered his lack of a quill, and went back to walking normally. I’ll get notes later.


Arnas, the man in the cloak, got down from his perch and found some small scraps of metal and stone, then sat down and started fashioning them into caltrops.

The building ahead was tall and imposing, yet in a sense that it’d collapse at any moment and kill everyone nearby

Eolas looked at it. “Why does your king live in a deathtrap?” He asks Carus.

“I don’t have any idea.”

Eolas shrugs. “Alright then.”

“well, after you,” he said, motioning to the door

He nods and walks in, looking around the ‘castle.’

It was an architect’s nightmare, railings leading to nowhere, stairs into walls, and disconnected floors. On the center of the choas say a throne of silver, turned away from the doorway

“Is that him?” Eolas asked Carus.

He nods, “Cious, I’ve brought a guest,” says Carus.
“Oh? Would he like anything to drink?” Replied the voice, though it sounded like hundreds layered upon each other

Eolas was somewhat startled, but more intrigued. “Um, only if you’re offering, sir.” He said.

“bring this man some tea,” he tells the captain, who nods and goes to do such. moments later the being stood, revealing himself to be 8 feet tall, his form seemingly on fire and the silhouette beneath in constant flux

Eolas was in awe, his interest taking over his being for a second. Then he came back to reality. “Um, should I bow, or…?” He asks.

“no need,” the being replied

“Alright.” Eolas responds. “My name is Eolas, and I find myself in the position of a scholar. I had been on an imperial ship to document it’s maiden voyage, however we were attacked, and here we are. However, in the pursuit of knowledge, there are a few questions I would like to ask, if you’d allow me.”

“go ahead.”

“First, why is it that you decide to live in this deathtrap of a castle?” He asks, reaching for his notebook. “Oh, also, do you have a quill or something by chance?”

“it’s personal, and on the floor behind you.”

“Thank you.” He said as he picked up the quill. Thankfully for him, though, he hadn’t forgotten ink, and set it in a holder on his notebook so he could write standing up. He also decided not to push more on that topic after the ‘it’s personal,’ not particularly wanting to get on the bad side of the Pirate King. “So about how long have you been ruling here?” He asks, writing down other anecdotes about the city, then starting a quick sketch of the King, including notes about his size and his flickering form.

“it’s hard to keep track of.”