His scouts had reported back more swiftly than anticipated. There was a storm on the surface a few days ago which had strengthened the currents, allowing them to return quickly. They had waited a few days after that to make their way upriver again, allowing the current to return to its normal rate.

There was a human settlement some distance inland situated on a river that led directly into the great sea where their waters mixed. Zul Cha’kra stood at the river’s edge, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon as his scouts emerged from the water, their reports swift and urgent. It wasn’t a large village, but his scouts reported that there were new groups of men heading into the village and back out on the trail. All of this was good information to know. It made their task much easier.

The plan was a simple one. They would take three bands of his raiders upstream, around one hundred and fifty, out of the sea and up the river. They would raid the village, pillaging all they could, killing anyone who got in the way, and taking captives with their webbing that would be sold to the dark elves of Rahana. They would take what they could as quickly as they could and head back downstream before the humans could mount a response. That was the plan, and he had gone over it multiple times with his raid leaders. The time to act was now.

He and his raid party moved into their preplanned positions. Each Yrm-Matsya warrior, with their sleek, muscular forms and webbed limbs, was trained from birth for speed and stealth, their loyalty to Cha’kra built on the success of his past endeavors. They would stick to the edge of the river until they were just a short distance away from the settlement. They had spent days scouting and gathering information, and they would strike at night. With the element of surprise and their knowledge of the area, they were confident in their success.

As the signal was given, Cha’kra’s raiders moved with deadly precision, slipping through the shadows like phantoms. The first screams pierced the night, followed by the clash of combat and the crackle of spreading fire. The humans were caught off guard, their unpreparedness playing into the hands of the invaders. The raid was swift and brutal, just as he anticipated.

Cha’kra led his warriors through the village, his trident striking down any who dared to oppose him. He saw the fear in their eyes, the desperation as they tried to defend their homes and families. But it was futile. The Yrm-Matsya were relentless, their strength fueled by pride, years of tradition and clear superiority.

The raid took over three hours to overrun all defenses and capture everyone. Cha’kra ordered his select troops, who were the designated the loot carriers, to gather what they would take back to their homes. The captured prey was thrown into the river, many wailing and screaming, their sounds pitiful and annoying to his ears. These people deserved nothing more than to be prey, as humans were generally weak. It was rare that he encountered one who deserved respect. These villagers were especially weak, and as a final insult, he directed his people to use one of the greatest tools of the surface world against them.

They took the existing fires and set all their structures ablaze. Cha’kra could not abide such weakness. Hopefully, this would be a lesson, and next time, some human might be able to mount a more respectable defense than this.