Headed by a Snake

Tycon accompanied Sea Witch Eilean through Port City Caractere's modest mercantile district. Though she was blind, she had no issues walking or even eating accurately with a fork and spoon. (They had clam chowder and surf and turf at a small portside cafe.)

Eilean explained that she had limited vision as long as there was sea spray in the air. If she weren't on land and on a ship or in the ocean, her senses would be far greater than anyone in her crew.

The Sea Witch couldn't read for obvious reasons, so Tycon was able to decipher a few shop signs for her while shopping for special deals. Eilean admitted to being the quartermaster of the Elizabeth Dare, a frigate-class warship. Her goal of the sun was to memorize the best deals at the shops, and on the morrow, she'd bring coin and crew to purchase the supplies.

Eilean proved herself knowledgeable about the latest news. She knew the most reputable port-side merchants, provided an account of the state of politics in the Kingdom's Navy, and even waxed on about a ghost ship spotted in the Darktide Fleet's jurisdiction. The Sea Witch found the notion of a haunted wreck romantic.

As sore as Tycon's stomach was from being stabbed, he was glad for her company-- she was far better of a conversationalist than Wolfbanger.

...Tycon missed Aurala. He decided to write her a letter, later in the evening.

Eilean spun gracefully with joy, flaring her skirt and jingling the bone charms hanging at her waist, "This 'as been grreat, Sir Tycon! I've naerly finished replenishin' our supplies! --I mean, when ah get the crew tae come with, anyrood.

Tycon smiled gently, "It's been a few bells, Miss Eilean. Shall I accompany you back to your crew?" Even though the woman couldn't see with her eyes, Tycon surmised that the Sea Witch she was able to keenly sense Tycon's expressions.

Eilean bit her bottom lip, "Och! Such a gentleman! Would it kill ye ta invite a bonnie lass to yer room?"

Tycon rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Tss. I wouldn't dream of being so forward, young lady."

The witch cackled loudly, holding her stomach, "Sea god's shite, you charmful bastard! Ye've damn near made me wet meself. Anyrood, me crew's at the pub jus' past tha' fishery. 'Ow about ye join us fer a pint?"

Tycon shrugged. Establishing friendly relations with a ship captain and their crew sounded like a worthwhile time investment, "I'd love to, Eilean."

"Speak o' the devil, 'ere comes me Captain nae!" Eilean stood on the edge of toes and waved at a rapidly approaching gentleman in a military coat. The dark-blue haired boy with red eyes was full-on-sprinting towards the both of them.

Oh. Gods damn it. It was him. Tycon grimaced. His afternoon was ruined and his disappointment, immeasurable.

The boy skidded to a halt in front of the pair.

Tycon noticed the boy's coat was dark, clean of stains, and he wore the metal shine of rank insignias. As skeptical as Tycon was, the boy was clearly an Officer in the Kingdom's Navy.

Eilean held out both of her arms, "Cap'n! Ahm glad ta see you fer once. High-Captain Lang Hai, allow me ta introduce ya to--"

"Don't care," Hai cut her off, "Where's Rico?"

The woman scowled, placing her hands on her hips, "Nae jist hold on, Cap'n. Yer bein' a right scunner in front of me guest."

The boy-Captain nodded at Tycon, "G'afternoon."

Tycon nodded back reservedly, "Good afternoon."

The boy didn't seem to recognize him... Tycon hadn't even put his hood back up.

Hai turned back to Eilean, "Well, that was nice, Lieutenant. Now, WHERE IS RICO?!"

The boy was nearly frothing at the mouth, "We can't do this! Not here! Not in this port! Not when SHE is watching!! She'll have. MY. HIDE!!"

Tycon pursed his lips. The boy's panic seemed... out of place.

"Aw, keeeeep yerr head, Cap'n," The Sea Witch waved a finger, "Y'know, yer wee crush on Capitaine Chantal has y--"

Lang Hai threw his head back and howled. It was a deep, sonorous song, shaking the nearby windows. The howl was unlike anything Tycon had heard before. It was more like the pained cry of an anguished sea leviathan than a wolf.

« System... Bring up the boy's basic information again... »

[System response: Lang Hai, Iron-Rank Dread Captain]

« Hm. I knew that. System, inquiry: What the hells was that howl? »

[System response: Analyzing vocalization... Analysis complete. Vocalization identified as the howl of the Abyssal Sea Wolf.]

« System... Inquiry: Why can Lang Hai howl like an Abyssal Sea Wolf? »

[System response: Target is afflicted by Abyssal Sea Wolf curse, a form of lycanthropy.]

Sea Werewolves. Tycon was not at all thrilled by the development. It did, however, explain what Tycon witnessed the previous night. All of Lang Hai's crew were able to ignore fatal wounds, relying on their lycanthrope healing factor.

It also explained why Hai was literally frothing at the mouth in a frenzied fear. Lycanthrope curses magnified raw emotions and feral instincts. The pup was losing control.

Eilean tilted her head up. If she hadn't been wearing a blindfold, she'd have rolled her eyes, "I'm real sorry fer this, Sir Tycon. I'd tell ye he's not usually like this, but I'd be lying through m'teeth."

"Did I hear Little Boss?" A young, freckled brunette about Tycon's height stepped out of the nearby pub.

Tycon cursed inwardly. It was the Rico that Hai was looking for. She was the one existence that Tycon truly did not want to encounter. The girl was a walking disaster.

The teenage girl swayed lightly to the side, stinking of rum... And keeping her steady with a decidedly ungentlemanly hand on her behind... was Barza Keith, the Lone gods-damned Shadowdark.

Rico tilted her head up to Eilean, "Sup?"

The drunkard downed what looked to be a triple-shot of dark liquor before lifting the upside-down glass towards Lang Hai, "I've been-- Hic-- We've been good, Cap'n. Just an-- just a drink."

Lone finally met Tycon's glare. His pupils dilated and he stood up straight, "Ahem. Boss."

"Mind your hands, Mister Lone," Tycon frowned. To emphasize his point he revealed a closed palm, then quickly flicked his hand open.

Lone bit his upper lip in worry, glancing at his touchy companion. He retracted his grubby hands from Rico and nodded, "Yessir."

Tycon used the hand signal for possible explosion or life-threatening situation. Thankfully, it looked like Lone understood that quite well.

The boy-Captain scowled, "Private First Class Rico, we're leaving."

Rico tilted her head and grinned widely, her eyes narrowing into squints, "Awww, we're just havin' a li'l bit of fun!"

She reached over, handily grabbing Lone's crotch, "Right, big brother?"

"Boss, help," Lone whispered.

"If you die before the next pay period, the money goes back to the guild," Tycon whispered back.

Lang Hai stomped forward and gripped his right hand on Rico's face. Lifting her as easily as he'd lift a sword, he leapt and smashed the back of her head into the paved white-stone road where she stood. He violently rained down punches and kicks on the drunkard.

"Cap'n, no!" Eilean yelled, "Stop! You're--"

Mounting the fallen Rico, Hai breathed in deep, nearly gagging on the stench of blood, vomit, and alcohol, and he delivered a rib-crunching knee to her side.

Hai stopped, but only for a moment. "Hurting her? Yes, I know."