Phorknere

Prologue

The wind was blowing hard and strong, the way all the sailor's on board the great ship liked it.

 A big burly, broad and muscular man stood, legs spread far apart as a manly and confident figure. The captain smiled, proud and glowing with excitement and glee. His child was going to be born! His first baby girl, he was sure.

 Everything was perfect, the salty sea wind, the ship rocking precariously back and forth, and the knowledge that they were about to charge to victory.

 They were all the Kings sailors, first class captain, to cleaning boy.

 “ENEMY SPOTTED!” Yelled the nest-man, above.

 “ALL HANDS ON DECK!” Yelled the captain in his brisk, strong and booming voice, a hint of cheer in it. “Show the white flag Lieutenant!” the captain said, smiling as he turned the huge ship to be side by side to the other, smaller, ship.

 A hands boy walked unto the deck showing the flag of truce, giving the passengers of the other ship, the choice of surrender or death.

 The captain on the other ship sneered at the flag, something silver flashing in the sunlight.

 The captain's smile broadened, as the realization of who he had caught sunk in, “HA!” He boomed at the captain, “So if it ain't the silver toothed devil himself,” The captain jeered.

 The other men on-deck gaped in surprise, some smiling devilishly, others turned pale with fright.

 “Well now, Captain Phorks! I was suspecting some one... smaller, and actually trained in magic!” Called the cold icy but authoritative voice of the silver toothed captain.

 Captain Phorks laughed, “And I was suspecting some one a bit bigger and braver then the scrawny rat that is now under my foot!”

 “Scrawny rat's are better then big hulking dogs, who can't see a trap when it stares them in the eye!” Hissed the silver captain menacingly.

 “No! It's you I've got trapped! Admit it, Slivernere! I got you trapped up against a wall!” Bellowed the captain challengingly.

 Slivernere chuckled icily, whatever humor that was suppose to be there was gone, “Your  just as Ufzach as a mongrel!” He sneered.

 Captain Phorks shook his head, this kind of back and forth banter always left him confused and angry, “By order of the king you are forth with arrested, for your crimes in the east, and for the murders you've committed. You can either surrender... or die!”

 Slivernere just snarled, “I WILL NEVER SURRENDER!” He screeched.

 Phorks, curled his lip, knowing that the villain would go that route, “Fine! Die!”

 There was a hissing sound that split the air as Slivernere's archers shot at Captain Phorks.

 He darted aside, laughing.

 Slivernere backed away from the rail, a look of darkness upon his face. He outstretched his arms to the sky muttering in the old language of their world.

 Phorks's face darkened, but the smile and laughter was renewed as an image of a baby in a pink blanket flashed in his mind. He charged forward, swinging himself unto the other ship., with a single frayed rope. He dropped on the deck, rolling for better impact at the charging man. He raised his sword, and with one swipe, his head was cut right off, soaring to fall next to one of his companions. The other man blanched with fright, but took up his cycle, with the look of a man who knows he's going to die.

 Phorks caught the man's hand as it came down, twisted it, and the blade fell useless to the ground.

 The man whimpered, holding out his hand in front of his face protectively.

 Phorks merrily grabbed him by the neck and tossed him overboard, knowing that the man would live, he was  not after all a cruel man. But a skilled man, that was he. He took men out left and right, laughing his cheerful laugh.

 A sword flashed towards his head, thrown knife style. It hit the water with a splash as Captain Phorks easily stepped out of harms way.

 Slivernere was heard cursing the sky up on the poop-deck.

 Captain Phorks grinned, walking smoothly and cooly to the poop-deck, smiling at Slivernere.

 He curled his lip, a bit of his silver teeth flashing in the sun, “Good evening Captain!” he said through clenched teeth.

 Phorks nodded, bringing his hand to his temple in mock respect, “Good evening traitor.”

 The two men lunged at one another, each one lightening fast and razer sharp.

 Sadly no one lived to tell the tale of the miraculous fight between the two legends.

 Slivernere gasped in shock and outrage, looking down he saw that his tunic and black coat were beginning to soak in his own crimson blood.

 Captain Phorks beamed proudly at the villain, though something was nagging at the back of his mind. He laughed. But to his surprise, Slivernere, laughed as well, the sound giving everyone goosebumps.

 Phorks frowned in confusion, and looked down at his own chest. He looked back up again, indignant that Slivernere had actually pierced him, not only that, but it had gone all the way through his chest and out the other side. He laughed aloud, wondering how he had not felt that before.

 Slivernere laughed, looking down at his chest. They both laughed insanely, the two enemies.

 “You know!” Laughed Phorks, “I was sort of hoping to see my daughter being born!”

 “You would have missed it anyways!” Slivernere laughed, “He was born three minutes ago!”

 “He!?” Phorks exclaimed, slapping his forehead, “Not another boy!” He whined.

 “Yes. I'm afraid so... He looks so much like his mother! But he has your eyes and adventurous spirit!” Slivernere said.

 “That's good...” Phorks muttered, he was slowly fading from the world, and he knew he was finally dying.

 “Mind if I sink the ship?” Slivernere said faintly.

 Phorks shrugged, suddenly filling weary and tired.

 Then there was a burst of flames, and the sound of bobbles, as the ships sunk to the sea.

 “Good bye traitor,” Phorks sighed.

“Good bye... captian,” Slivernere said, shutting his eyes to the world.

And so the two legends died, in the middle of the sea, both with a sword sticking out of their cold died bodies.