125 Wager (1/2)
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.”