Andrew woke up chained, he shook himself trying to break the chains but his energy just faded. The arcanium chains were imbued with wave magic and sapped his energy as he struggled. So he stopped and looked around the dark damp room. His sister didn’t seem to be anywhere nearby either. Where in the world had they taken her? She was only 12.
Andrew screamed, he shouldn’t have tried to talk with those shady men, trying to make a few more galleons. The Grand Navy had found out and imprisoned them. But why? Why not the actual villains?
He bent his prosthetic leg and sighed in defeat. That was when light bathed the room. Andrew snapped up and froze. His sister was tossed to the floor, bruises covering her skin and blood dripping from her mouth. BArely holding onto life.
Andrew screamed at the woman standing there smiling maliciously. His anger running rampant and rejuvenating his strength. “Your sister refused to talk, how about you?” She pulled out a key and began chuckling, “Brutes like you are so gullible. Hah!”
Then there was a snap and the woman was barely able to block an inflamed punch to the face. “Murderer!” Andrew yelled, going for an uppercut.
“Brutes,” She hissed. She blocked the blow and sent him flying into the entry way with a blast of sand. Andrew stopped in the hallway and watched his sister, she had stopped breathing.
Andrew let out a tear before turning and bolting down the hallway, he was clearly outmatched. He could hear her shouts from behind but he kept on running, he would be back.
He ran through hallways and up ramps and stairs, dashing past guards and other people yelling at him to stop, before finally bursting out of Silverhold onto the grounds where recruits were training, the ships right past them. Without losing a beat he launched a flamed fire blast. Knocking people aside, he then continued on.
He suddenly felt sand hit him in the back, the girl had caught up. “You ain’t going anywhere!”
Andrew stopped and then slammed his leg into the ground kicking up a cloud of dust. He bolted towards a sailboat that was sailing away and jumped aboard. Starting the Grand Navy soldiers. It didn’t take long to dump them in the water and the ship was sailing again him leaving Silverhold behind, tears running down his face.
Andrew smashed his fist into the bag. Again and again and again. His fists glowing with red-hot flames as he pummeled the punching bag trying to get his anger out. He heard something crack inside the bag. The Sand was melting into glass and then being shattered, it was satisfying to him.
He had rented a room at Sailor’s Lodge for the time being, he’d move on soon before any Grand Navy found him.
He stopped punching and began kicking, his prosthetic leg hitting with the force of a magic blast. He then pummeled it some more, the fabric managing to not be completely burned away somehow. All of a sudden one of the glass shards inside pierced through and stabbed his fist as he punched into it.
The flames dying out he watched the blood drip down his hand, before ripping out the shard without flinching.
“So, what are you worked up about?” A voice echoed from the doorway of the room he was in. Andrew turned around fast and found him face to face with a dark-skinned, masked man. Fire seemed to twirl around the weapons on his back.
Andrew sighed, “You seem friendly enough.” He turned and sat on a cot looking at the broken battered punching bag.
The man stood there watching the bag go side to side before the bag finally tore and sand and glass spelled all over the floorboards and dropping through the cracks into the commons below.
“The Grand Navy, just as corrupt as all the other empires before them and after them,” Andrew said into his hands.
The man listened and then responded, “I’m forming a group of misfits, the worst and the best. We are gonna help each other out and also oppose tyranny. Interested in joining?”
Andrew inflamed his fist and watched the flames dance, “If it gets me one step closer to killing that bitch, then yes.”
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This will be my Warlord file for the Phoenix Furnace Guild