The sun rose from the seas to the East, casting elongated shadows of masts and sails. The numerous large ships at North Bay Port were meticulously protected by hundreds of Holy War veterans and remained undamaged amidst last night's chaos and slaughter. However, standing high atop the watchtower, gazing westward toward Saint Elizabeth Queen's Castle, the wooden and thatched farmhouses had been burned to smoldering torches, emitting an acrid thick smoke.
"Almighty! The farm is completely destroyed... and I wonder how many of those more than a hundred strong colonists... survived?"
"I heard the Holy War veterans suffered heavy casualties last night! Half a platoon had their heads cut off..."
"What?! Such seasoned soldiers were defeated by the natives?!"
"Shh! Keep it down! The Deputy Commander is in a foul mood; don't let him hear..."
"Damn it! We should take the ship and leave! Fighting these crazy barbarians... I want to make it back alive to Seville..."
