The pirate stood at the prow of the ship, wrapped in a cloak of salt-stiffened wool. The sharp sea wind bit at his face, carrying with it the tang of brine and the distant tolling of bells—a frantic warning from the village ahead. His ship, sleek and black as a predator, cut through the waves with deadly precision, the oars moving in a synchronized rhythm that sent sprays of foam cascading into the air. Behind him, his brothers sharpened blades and adjusted belts heavy with weapons, anticipation etched into every scarred face.
The ship finally reached the shore with a low groan of wood against sand. As soon as the prow kissed land, the pirate raised his sword, his voice cutting through the roar of the waves. "Brothers! To the raid! Take what you can, and leave no man standing!"
A cheer erupted, and the pirates surged forward, leaping over the gunwales and splashing into the shallows. Feet pounding the wet sand, they charged into the village.
