The guards on top of the cliff, forever watching:
The nighttime guard, the one who watched from the top of the cliff face from just before midnight to dawn, stood at the little observation platform. Having reasonably high physical stats, he didn't have much trouble maintaining his concentration for hours. Of course, it helped that he had little respites every couple of hours when one of the others came out and temporarily took over.
There wasn't much to see; a storm front was throwing off lots of fog and clouds. Also, the light was only barely starting to get bright. He heard two sets of footsteps behind him. A glance showed one of the other male watchers, plus the woman.
"Pretty thick fog down there," said the man, "Oh, wait a bit, it's clearing up."
"Yeah, there must have been some stormy weather down at sea level." said the first man.
The woman stepped in and leant against the rails, looking out and down.
"Yep, sure seems like it," she said.
"OK, I'm taking over." said the first watcher.
"Hey, it looks like a fine morning after all!" said the woman.
Indeed it was; the sun was brightening, and the storm clouds were clearing. The off-shift guard took one last look - and then said:
"Fuck."
"Sorry? I expect better language than that... Oh fuck." said the woman.
It was now obvious. There were four ships, four unidentified ships, sailing from the wrong direction, heading towards the port. They were still four indistinct blobs, but getting clearer all the time. As if it wanted to help the identification, the sun shone ever brighter, and the last of the early morning fog and storm clouds evaporated.
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"There are no scheduled ships due today." said the first guard.
"These are coming from the opposite direction to Crysteth," said the second.
"OK, that's a confirmed contact; I've got all the information I can now. I'm off." said the woman, whose name was Alexa.
Without further ado, she turned and sprinted to the hut, grabbed her helmet and knee and elbow pads, put them on, and was racing up the trail to Manifestoria within a minute.
The second guard waved his hand a little and started producing signal flares. Three went down, towards the port buildings, and burst into splendour just above them. Three more went straight up before flaring out. These were meant to give Manifestoria advanced warning. Meanwhile, the first guard ran towards the huts to wake the last guard and begin their preparations.
Alexa, the running girl:
The Misfits, being the heroes, were blessed with generalised physical stats. They were good at almost everything to do with physical activities. However, the ordinary members of Flexian society had to make do with more specialised skills. Alexa had the running skill. She had been training towards it since childhood, meaning she could run like the wind.
Right now, the sun was bright enough to see, the path back to Manifestoria was deliberately kept clear and in good repair, and she was wearing full protective gear. These were ideal conditions for her as she got up to the absolutely superhuman speed of 80km/hour. At that speed, she was very careful to watch the conditions ahead of her. Taking a spill at that speed was no joke - but reporting a slaver invasion was something that could not be delayed.
The Slaver Captain:
Damn this weather, you would almost think that the Voice of the World was actively conspiring against us. First, the storms blow offshore, preventing us from getting in under cover of darkness; then, when we finally manage to make our way, the sun brightens, the sky clears in all directions, and we are now visible for kilometres. And the wind is still blowing offshore. It's going to be another hour or so before we make land.
He was morosely watching the buildings of the little port as they became visible. And the signal flares above them. And more signal flares above the top of the cliff.
We're certainly not making any surprise landings this time, that's for sure.