Carimpluni rose quietly from the Orudaran wilderness on the shores of a secluded bay whose entrance narrowed to a single channel between two overlapping arms of land. From open sea, the coastline appeared fractured and empty. Inside, smooth sand stretched outward before giving way to stone as the shoreline climbed toward protective ridges. A small river emptied into the bay, its fresh water cutting a pale seam through the salt air. Wild fruit trees clustered along its banks, their scent drifting through the wind. The place felt hidden, but generous.
Catenum, chief of the Orudaran Pirate Guild, recognized its promise long before it had a name. Early in his career he stumbled across the basin and memorized its contours. Years later, he sent trusted allies to conscript trades folk and construct a small shipyard along the inner shore. Keels were laid in secrecy. Hulls rose against the cliffs. Mallets struck in steady cadence from dawn to dark.
When Messo brought news of the Orudaran crisis, Catenum knew Carimpluni would be the safest refuge left on the continent. Thousands fled the spreading war in search of the safety and fragile peace the hidden bay seemed to offer. The settlement swelled from scattered huts to a rough town shaped by labor and urgency.
Telimicus did not search for Carimpluni. He searched for opposition. His armies ranged across Orudara, breaking resistance wherever it formed. For ten years they crushed defiance at terrible cost. Catenum anticipated the inevitable and drove his shipyard to work faster. By the time Telimicus’s diminished forces finally crossed the outer ridges and saw the basin below, seventy ships stood provisioned and ready in the harbor.
Carimpluni was defensible.
Orudara was not.
Passengers and crew aboard the final vessels sailing out through the narrow channel looked back to see smoke thicken against the enclosing arms of land. Steel flashed along the sand. Hulls meant for escape burned where they stood. Some took bitter solace in the heavy losses inflicted on Telimicus’s weary army. Others wept for family left behind and for the fading hope that the tide of his influence might still be reversed.
Carimpluni simultaneously found its way onto the map and vanished in flame, but seventy ships carried its people beyond his reach.