Role

Chapter 13

Born in a small village, on the shores of the Aryth Ocean, Unalethekai was
raised by a pious and superstitious community rich with culture, but poor in
material goods. This was largely due to the fact that the village was plagued
by the marauding pirates who took great joy in traveling the coast and
raiding the peaceful fishing towns periodically. Unalethekai's kin would
make offerings to the Storm that they worshiped, for protection, and their
faith was strong, even when the weather seemed to favor the raiding ships
more often than not.

Unalethekai's parents were simple folk, and raised him with strong morals and
a sense of stewardship for those who had less. His father was the local
priest, more of a tribal shaman, really, who believed that if they stood as a
village, performed the proper rituals, and made sacrifices to the Storm, the
village would remain safe. He was grooming Unalethekai to take his place when
he died, as the spiritual leader of the village.

A natural born leader, Una knew that if his village ever hoped to experience
long-lasting peace, they would have to do more than pray. His faith was
strong, but so was his arm, and it didn't take long for him and a number of
other young men to adapt their fishing spears to pierce the crude armor worn
by the marauding pirates. They made a plan, and prepared themselves, floating
just beneath the waves as the sun sank into the ocean.

The dhow, its crude colors snapping in the breeze, approached the small
village silently, the evil men on board fingering their blades as they
prepared to ransack the unprepared, undefended village. Or so they thought.
Suddenly, the ocean seemed to explode around them as the group of storm
giants sprung from the water, clambering over the railings and onto the deck
of the ship, swarming the surprised pirates, who fell, staining the planks
red with their tainted blood.

As calm returned to the ship, the only sound was the lapping of the waves on
the gunwale and the heavy breathing of the villagers who had finally stood up
to their opressors. Then, cheers erupted from the village proper as the
people realized that their plan had succeeded.

Standing at the helm, Unaleth offered a silent prayer to Neltouda, the Storm
Born, giving thanks for the brisk wind that had risen to blow away the scent
of death and replace it with fresh smell of brine. Then, a thought struck
him. He turned around, grinning down at the ragtag group of fishermen
standing on the deck of the small, but well-equipped ship. His gaze took in
the sails, snapping crisply in the offshore wind, and he reveled in the
sound. This was his ship, now. And he would no longer spend his days casting
his net. He would become a fisher of men, as his Father hoped for, but not in
the sense that his father had expected.

There were other villages, like his, undefended. There were other peoples,
like his, oppressed, with no one to stand up for them. He had a ship. He knew
how to sail. It was time to take from those who made thievery into a trade,
and give back to those who had been stolen from. He would sail far and wide,
inspiring the faithful who worshipped the Storm that gave them life, teach
them of the Lady Captain, who, like the storm giants, came from the Storm
itself, and raise them up, teaching them