Storm stopped to look at his hands as his boat hit shore, exasperated by the ease of the whole thing. The two battalions used such simple, stupid weapons; cannonballs or blunderbuss or arrows. There wasn’t a scent of other magicians in the air; if there were others like him in this environment none had tipped their hands just yet. Hearing the commander call for blood, he couldn’t help but laugh at the whole thing.

You don’t know war; you don’t know REAL hell. These little paltry skirmishes are child’s play in the grand scheme; this is a dress rehearsal.

Of course, the pirates and guards dying this battle felt pretty fucking real, but to the wizard, amateur hour. He contemplated raising one of the metal-suited guards from afar, suspending the man amongst his brethren, and crushing his chest from afar. Perhaps the display would scare off enough guards to let the pirates ferry through and take what they needed most simply.

Or perhaps these morons around you mark you for a witch and turn their sole attention on you. The heat hasn’t exactly abated from Radasanth; just get the money.

He was charging forward smoothly, a dance upon the hard-packed sands as guards came up towards and about him. The electromancer was fluid like water; darting, dashing and spinning to a silent rhythm that beat the drum within his head. There was no need for him to slow the progress by killing these guards; they were no more serious a threat to him than a gnat buzzing about your face on a warm summer’s night. Besides, Veritas felt no particular allegiance to the pirate commander or any of these sniveling wretches; they were but a means to an end.

The first large building that they were told to take lay before him, merely fifty feet or so and looking ravaged. The windows were already blown out; the once-wood frames shattered splinters and fresh new windows blown through by incoming cannon fire. Storm knew that entry was easy; he could take a few more steps and pop himself up to the third floor with a single burst of electromagnetic energy beneath his soles, but he still desired to maintain anonymity.

Make it look hard, but keep yourself safe.

Sliding between an oncoming guard’s legs, the magician slashed at the calves to stop one pursuant attacker. This damned fool had bee-lined to him; it was unlikely he was going to give up without some fear. Rather than easily sever the inner thigh and let him bleed out, the experienced adventurer simply maimed him. In the slide, he felt a little burn as his knees were skinned upon the hard sand. He smiled as he popped up, running forward as the guard fell hapless and enjoying the little burn.

One guard had appeared directly before the building, leaving the traveler a decision. He could mercifully hop over the man outright, landing in the open second floor, or he could slash him, bleed him, and crawl up looking very normal in the grand scheme.

Screw it. Once your inside, the pirates can’t catch you.

Pushing his hands to the earth, Storm Veritas was catapulted upward over a flabbergasted guard, tumbling with absurd ease as he somersaulted into the open second story window. His raider reds were dropped immediately – a bandana and shirt discarded leaving him almost entirely anonymous in the large, dusty, conveniently abandoned room.