The crew aboard the small ship sailing north to the new land was restless, a month's journey to new land only phantom in rumors of the leaders of New Cornwall, not made easier by the 4-day off-course that occurred a week into the journey. I take out a picture that I keep in my breast pocket, one that I look at often at these long days of sea. Colleen, from when she was younger, the only photograph I have of any of my family. I miss them very much, and the eagarness that started this voyage has faded away- I want to be home with them again.

But alas, land comes in sight, green land with smoke on the horizon. There was life here.

"Land Ho!" the crows nest shouts. The crew jumps to action, shouting and cheering. A victory finally in sight.

We land north of the colony, leaving some behind to set up camp as the captain, myself, and eight others grab gear to head into the colony.

As we approach, we hear silence. The colony is large, and there is smoke coming from their chimneys, but there are no voices when hundreds are expected.

"Something isn't right here..." the captian says slowly.

Suddenly, we're surrounded: thirty possibly forty men jump from the trees holding knives and guns and other weapons, shouting at us in a foreign language. The captain orders us to disarm, and we do, but we are still pushed to the ground and chained, then dragged into the colony.

Whomever these people are, they are quite hostile...