Bab 125: Wager

Tycondrius wanted to go back to the inn. He'd get a nice, full plate for dinner, write a letter to Aurala, and probably go straight to bed. The Courier's Guild opened early. He wouldn't have to wait in line.

Instead, he was outside, cold, slightly-hungry, and being essentially pressured by a Sea Witch he just met to point a pistol at a child.

A small crowd had gathered-- random passersby and people from the pub who had heard the commotion. They bore witness to boy-Captain Hai and the pistol-wielding Tycon.

Hai was laughing loudly, probably to hide his fear, "HA HA HA HA! HA! HAHA! HA! HAAAAAA!!"

Tears were running down his face. The boy wasn't fooling anyone.

...Tycon was growing tired of holding up his pistol.

The noisy mumblings of the crowd caught Tycon's attention-- "What's going on?" "It looks like it's one of the Grand-Capitaine's enforcers." "What? No way, I've never seen an enforcer so handsome!" "Psh. No one has the balls to pretend to be an enforcer in Caractere. Everyone knows Capitaine Chantal would skin him alive."

Tycon regripped his pistol, his expression serious, "Listen up! How about you offer to pay for the damages and you can... just sod off."

...

High-Captain Lang Hai felt rivers and tributaries of sweat running down his forehead, face, and back. Hai had verifiably nailed his impression of a slack-jawed, screwed in the head, Caractere sailor. It was so perfect, he would even fool himself!

Hai's eyes narrowed in realization. Sea god's pants, how could he be so stupid not to realize it earlier!?

It wasn't that the noble bastard Tycon saw through his flawless act... Tycon must have specifically sought out Lang Hai to cause trouble for him and his Marines. The shameless cunt even brought a crowd of witnesses!

'Alright, Rico. Go Beast Mode and kill-- Aw, coral cock, nevermind,' Lang Hai silently regretted his epic-worthy, violently brutal, incredibly satisfying thrashing of Rico. He should have just torn off a limb and beat her with it or locked her in the hotbox for a week without food.

Rico would cry and pee herself if she was denied food for over 6 bells.

It had happened.

High Captain Lang Hai of the Beaurte Marines stood tall, dropping the friendly facade and feigned foolishness.

He would not give in to Chantal's crony. He would fight against their tyranny, their injustice, and their blatant disrespect of a pure, innocent, honest and righteous Marine Officer.

"You ask me to pay?" Hai chortled, unintentionally sounding hurt.

Hai walked into the shop, creating some distance between him and Tycon. He leaned forward, resting a forward boot on a raised surface (Rico's face) and pointed his finger with an upraised palm, "Well, I CAN'T DO THAT!!"

Tycon glanced aside at the crowd and at Lieutenant Eilean before sighing, "Very well, sir. May I ask why y--"

"BECAUSE I don't have any money!!" Hai arrogantly declared.

Tycon didn't seem impressed, "That's... not at all something to be proud of."

Rico's muffled voice emanated from her broken form, "Cap'n yer on my… my teef. I needs them… ta eat."

Hai pointed his finger accusingly at Tycon, "We get our weaponry imported from Bael Turath, but we only get old, discarded weapons that otherwise they'd sink to the bottom of the sea! Epochs-old gear makes up a majority of our gunnery!

"We've been able to add three ships to the fleet last fiscal year. One of them has a HOLE in the hull because we had a WARLOCK raise it from the depths of the ocean. But it's not the worst ship we own because AT LEAST it can SAIL!"

"And do you know how much it costs to rent a port in Beaurte? Have you seen Port Saint Guinefort? It's nothing but rocks, rabid sea rats, and corpses that keep washing up on shore! It's so haunted my garrison Officers have literally started calling themselves Ghostbusters. And they keep humming that stupid theme song! And the Council has the nerve to call it prime real estate! And they refuse to give me a military discount!"

When Lang Hai's tears began, they did not stop.

Tycon frowned and closed his eyes, "I'm... so very sorry."

Hai perked up, his eyes widening, "YOU ARE?! Err... I mean... You are?"

The noble smirked derisively, "I'm sorry that you're an idiot."

"How about this!" Hai declared, "We have a BET!!"

Hai couldn't pay. He couldn't run-- not easily, anyroad... Not when the eyes and ears of Grand-Capitaine Chantal were everywhere in Caractere.

But he could bet. Bets and gambles were what built Lang Hai's life, suffering terrible setbacks and risking more for enormous gains.

Tycon sighed in awe of Lang Hai's genius, "Seven hells, really? Is that your best course of action?"

The crowd erupted into excited mumbles-- "Oh, a bet!" "Hey everyone, there's a bet going on out here!!" "Make 'em walk the plank!!" "Toss him in the bilge and make him drink it!!" "Even the Grand-Capitaine has to abide by the results of a bet."

The noble narrowed his stupid-looking, beady, yellow eyes, "State your terms."

Hai grinned. What an idiot, "Ahaha! If I win, you let all this go. If you win… Well, uh... I've got a few weapons I could trade for... if you like... to collect antiques. Every Kingdom-issued weapon wielded by a Beaurte Marine qualifies as an antique!"

"Try again," Tycon scowled.

Hai punched a fist into his opposite hand, "Ha! I've got a few unwed female Marines and Officers I could introduce you to! Sea god's suspenders, I can even force Rico to bathe and hand her over to your crew! (If she's still alive after this, anyroad.)"

"I can't see, Little Boss. There's... there's *only darkness*..." The broken mess that used to be Rico sobbed pitifully.

Hai rubbed his boot on the girl's face, "Shut up, Rico. It's not even that bad."

"Is... Your female going to be okay?" the stupid noble asked.

Hai grit his teeth. He was running out of offers. The noble was insatiable, "I can invite you back to my ship?"

"And why... pray tell, would I possibly care about that?"

"The crew caught a half-ton Firescale Swordaxe-Fish maybe a bell prior. It's pretty great raw, but Eilean knows a good supplier for charcoal."

Eilean sidled up to Tycon, "Ehhh... Sir Baron. Paerhaps we kin come to an arrangement, yanno, wivout tha bloadshed?"

Hai rejoined inwardly. Yesss. Use your powers of sluttery, Eilean! Make him bend to your sultry, saggy-boobed, 25-year-old body!

Tycon stepped forward, away from the Sea Witch, "I accept your wager."

Oh. That works out.

The elderly cartographer finally managed to unstick himself from underneath some broken debris, "P-please... leave my store!"

"Shut up, ya old fart." "Silence, old man." Hai and Tycon commanded simultaneously.

The noble twirled his pistol, "How fast is your reaction time, whelp?"

Lang Hai seethed in righteous anger, "The Sea Wolf fleet claims the fastest ships in the Kingdom and I am their High-Captain! The Beaurte Marines are the fastest, strongest, and toughest raiders in the Royal Navy and I am their Alpha!"

Hai snarled, "I am the raging Sea Wolf! Racing faster than a shark to its twitching, bleeding meal! I'll tear you to twice the bloody shreds, killing you three times as fast!"

Lang Hai grinned wickedly, feeling his blood boil. His transformation threatened to replace his cool calm with naught but hunger and bloodlust, "Now who the hells do you think you are?"