[ WP ] The sirens sounded , wailing their deafening song . It was time . The Armada was coming .

The wooden door valiantly held against the raging storm, howling gales and an endless torrent of rain pressing against it. The tiny building stood alone on the cliffs, just as the inhabitants of the island it was built on stood alone, against the inbound threat. One of the occupants lit his pipe, while gazing at the increasing number of leaks in the roof above. Grumbling to himself, he raised his aged and weary body from the comfort of the chair it rested in, and moved towards the exit. 
 
 `` If only this infernal weather came earlier, would have wrecked the bastards up on the coast.'' 
 
 Putting on the cloak that hung nearby, he took a breath, and pulled open the door. The fury of the storm outside immediately slammed into him, while his once dry clothing was soaked nearly instantaneously. Cursing once more, he pushed through the force of the force of the winds, into the darkness outside. Drawing his hood closer, he tried to ignore the chill that seemed to pierce into his very bones. He strained his eyes and peered into the abyss below. Despite the terrible conditions, his sense of duty propelled him onward, as he gazed upon the turbulent seas. For three days the skies unleashed their fury, and for three days he kept watch. Now as his body was pushed to its limit, his eyes registered what his mind did not want to acknowledge. A fleet of warships carpeted the dark waters, every one of the ships pointing menacingly at the shoreline. 
 
 Throwing his body through the downpour and returning back into the house, the man rushed over to the bed on the other side of the room. Grabbing the sleeping occupant, he shook the weariness from the boy's half open eyes. 
 
 `` Wake up and get the horse lad, you need to send the warning. The Spanish are here.''
