Years ago, there was trifle 'twixt two rival clans in the Aratari Desert. Darius of the Brewdals and Tamrel of Szwiezette fought for power and control of the Aratut Gulf. To which blood spilled on both sides, and tears shed for all who died, and for which Mordock put peace in tide.
The gulf was at constant barrage, a hostile vista of compassionate violence. Traders were warned of this stop along the desolate sea, the only stop for months en route to Barad'Dun. Mordock happened on a viking ship (a story for another time) sending warriors to aid in the newly forming nation. Regardless of the absent intentions to stop at the Aratut, Mordock literately jumped ship into the Aklaid Sea. A decision even though most brave would not make. Lucky for our gnome however, he's ignorant.
In the choppy waves of a dark wet abyss, his first thought was, " Wow, this water is too wet". It was occupied by the infamous goblin sharks, sharp nosed and mouthy creatures. Eyes like that of an oriental porcelain doll, but vivid and curious and naughty and furtive. The water had an effect of complacency, oddly warm temperature and snug embrace. Perfect conditions for an easy, unexpected snack.
A mile from shore shore the gnome swam. The dark sand, ashy beaches, smoke obscuring the red sky. It seemed to sleep, in a metamorphosis state. A cocoon to which the inside was a gentle turmoil. On a wasteland of ash, the green water sought to touch the veritable gray. Its arms pushing the light bodied man to shore. Its children, however, hungered. The abomination created by the raunchy stench that decades of dead men wrought. A keen eye, an anxious tongue, a horrid giggle, they waded to their meat...
Mordock felt the slimy writhe, and hastened his stroke towards the dead bay. Ridiculing laughter chased him, ensuing the gnarl of shapeless silhouettes. Dark shadows fading in and out of the vast savage garden. The Viking ship gone, The shepherd unknowingly losing an unwanted sheep. And so the wolves descend, a pack of garish things outlawed from the order of nature. Mordy's arms pedaled for distance, murky water pushed aside. The quickened fins of the predator in time with his efforts. Let it be, he thought, they look me in the eye when they bite me. Let them know the fury of the gnome. Head under, he goggled for the hunters.