Storm of Misfortune

It was the dead of night in the worst maritime storm the country of Bantia had seen all year. Pitch black waves swelled to over fifteen feet high before breaking and crashing down again, only to be replaiced by another only just a moment. Rain swirled in every direction, and it had been for hours that day. Lightning streaked across the sky, providing the only illumination for miles. That is, save for a single vessel whose crew was either brave of stupid enough to brave the storm.

The bow crashed through another twelve foot wave, riding down the other side as lightning lit up the sky once more. Abord the deck, the ship’s crew was scrambling to keep their vestal going, sliding across the rain covered boards with each role of the waves.