“What was that?!” Shouted Varliin. His men scurried to the side of the deck facing the shore, and all peered for a sign of what this noise could signal. Suddenly a few men could be seen clambering from between the thick trees of Yew forest which lined the chalky cliffs. More and more began appearing, until a wall of men stood silently staring at the nearby group of ships.
“We’ve been sniffed out!” Shouted Varliin.
His private hideout located just beyond those trees had remained secret for many years, and the thought of his treasures contained within being ransacked stirred the blood in his veins.
“We will hack them down!” He cried. His men cheered, though most were fearful for there were at least a hundred enemies in view, and probably many more behind them.

The ships bore no ammunition, and so the heavy cannons facing the shore were rendered useless. The men would have to use boats to reach the beach, and Varliin knew how exposed and vulnerable this would make them. There was no choice.

It was Varliin’s greed that had gained him his reputation as a fearsome pirate. It was Varliin’s greed that was his own downfall.

In the face of near certain death he ordered his reluctant men to row to the shores. If he did not, he knew his treasures, his life’s work, would be lost. His men were forced to obey, because they also knew that if they were to leave now then they would become nothing. They would have no leader and more importantly to them, no plunder. Outcasts of the ocean.

The men sang a bellowing war-song as they rowed. The figures atop the cliff drew back, before being replaced by a line of archers. They drew their bows, and loosed their arrows. The sky was thick with the feathered darts, which rained down relentlessly on the pirates as they rowed onwards.

Not many of Varliin’s men survived long enough to disembark upon the beach, but those who did quickly drew their weapons before charging up the hill. Varliin made it this far, and was quick to join the battle.

It was a brutal but fast fight. The pirate’s blood ran down the beach and the seas turned crimson. Many of the folk who had gathered to fight had lost friends and loved ones during the recent invasions, and justice was ferociously dealt this night.

Varliin fought like an enraged bear, hacking men down with furious speed before he was eventually overwhelmed. Within seconds his severed head was hoisted on a flagpole and those few surviving pirates witnessed this, and began to flee. They too were felled as they tried in vain to escape the enraged horde.

And thus Varliin was defeated.

Grarg found out about Varliin’s defeat the following day. In his rage he had disembowelled the messenger, and hung his corpse from The Buzzard’s riggings. He had lost his best man, and almost half of his fleet with him. If people had discovered Varliin’s hideout, there was every chance his own personal stockpile may have been discovered, and so it was here Grarg sailed with great urgency that same morning.

Throughout the voyage his men were silent. The way in which Varliin and his men had been slain had brought a stark sense of reality to the crew. They had felt invincible, as they plundered and ransacked town after town, crushing their enemies. Now they knew just how mortal they really were, and many men felt true fear for the first time.

They reached their destination the following morning, and no sooner had they dropped anchor men were busily loading boats ready to take them to shore. Grarg’s stronghold was huge, and could easily accommodate his villainous army.

After the initial relief of finding no one already there awaiting them, the men quickly established themselves back on dry land. Cannons were wheeled into position, and scores of carpenters immediately set about constructing barricades and gun mounts. The place was teeming with activity as men scurried about readying themselves and their base for combat.

Grarg was not going to lose this battle.

The story is from http://www.uo-europe.com/