Peace Bay.
The once-bustling trading port was now unrecognizable.
Half of the stone bollards on the docks, once used to moor merchant ships, had been smashed. In their place were makeshift anchor points cobbled together from shipwrecked keels and thick iron chains.
The smooth stone slabs paving the streets had long since been pried up and scattered, leaving a mix of rubble and mud that was sticky and disgusting to walk on.
The walls of the shops and homes lining the streets were covered in crude graffiti and skull flags. Their windows were boarded shut, leaving only small cracks through which numb eyes peered out.
Most of the original inhabitants who hadn't escaped in time had become the pirates' property. The men were forced to haul cargo, and the slightest hesitation would earn them a lash from an overseer's whip. The women and children were locked away in small huts, their eyes vacant as they awaited the fate of being sold.
