The Burning of Prosperia

A normal day in the city; Calm, quiet, and tranquil, it was the home of around 180,000 elves that have been living peacefully with its surroundings and neighbors. The women were beautiful, the exports bountiful, and the songs from the local bards in taverns or ceremonies were delightful to those that came to hear, or was there to hear.

Of course, not everyone shared the same sentiments of them being a peaceful people. Fueled not by jealousy but by culture, riches, or politics, there were those that saw Prosperia as a luxury that was not meant to be, or a diamond in the rough that was theirs to claim. That was the opinion of the Warchief of the local Two-Axes tribe saw that they were ripped for the taking and amassed his kin to raid - and invited a human, of all things, to accumulate his own Warband and join them.

For a mercenary, it was strange to see that he was willing to reinforce them for free, save for what they plunder.

And as the evening dawned and residents enjoyed another peaceful day, dozens of carts on fire rolled towards the town and released six goblins each as it crashed onto a structure or a tree. While some were easily executed immediately, the sound of cannons roared around the town's cherished forest. The newly-rubbled streets blocked citizens and guards alike, as the orc horde came charging at the shut elevated town entrance that the goblin carts couldn't initially attack, all the while despoiling riches from door-to-door, taking riches and slaves while others chopped on the wooden gate.

The human mercenaries soon followed, providing artillery fire as arrows rained from the defenders using the hill from which their city stood as leverage, only to be proven ineffective as shields became pincushions with the trees rendering them even more useless and immediately being answered by cannon fire from unseen foes.

By the port, panicking citizens were boarding large vessels. Many were praising fortune as the river from which connected their city and helped in trade, were their deliverance with the flow of the water directly escorting them to safety. But as the first ship sailed for a few minutes, they saw sloops-of-war in ragged conditions, bearing torn black sails and heading straight toward them. The Captain of the Vanguard ordered them destroyed.

Much to his horror, they exploded when their cannons connected to the wooden vessels, for they were on fire and colliding with one another until they blocked the river, waiting for the elven ships to collide into them and contributed to the blockade, burning sailors and noncombatant alike.

All escape was soon blocked with all merry music rendered into screams and cries.