[The Bloody Bay Fleet]

The Bosun's shoulders sagged in relief as the pair are left alone in the room. "Well, we still have our heads, no thanks to you."

The Admiral bristled a little, "what do you mean?! I was simply trying to play hard to get, like you said." The Bosun sighed loudly, "I didn't mean to demean the Royal Navy! Uhhhh. No, we're not doing this, not after our victory. Aelfric, you were splendid as always." There was that same cheeky grin on Parcival's face as he took the empty wine glass from Aelfric's hand and placed it on the tray.

"Why, thank you, Parcival. I certainly thought so." The same smile was Mirrored on Aelfric's face as they shared a private moment. "Now, let us away. If I know Mackay, he's already started supper without us." Parcival gave out a quiet laugh. "Then we'd better hurry, that faun could eat the larders empty if he tried!" The pair of them left the room, rejoining with the entourage and slowly making their way to the docks, where a child led them to one of the worst taverns they had seen, but shanties of the Fleet rang out from it as though all were in high spirits.

Drinks were drunk, and a modest feast was had in the rough tavern. The landlord was paid well for their hospitality, and all rested well that night, all save one.

In the shadows of the night, a prisoner's throat is slit. A labourer chokes on their dinner and passes on at the table. And finally, a poor conscript was found deserting on the way to Drochaid Bront, and shot in the back by a crossbow. Those who were responsible for reporting these events were greeted by a sack of coin, and their papers found their way to a man dressed in a red coat and bicorn, whistling a shanty to himself.

The Bosun stood at the pier with the papers crumpled in his fist, looking out over the wine-dark sea with a wistful look in his eye. He opened his fist over the water, and his eyes glowed red as he spoke a single word into the night. A black shadow darker than night consumed the reports, and the sound of gnashing teeth could be heard. When the shadow disappeared, the papers were nought but shreds.

When the sun rose the next day, the Fleet's crew rose as well, jolly and jaunty, and returned to their ships. Albatrosses were sent with missives to other ships, and just as swiftly as they had arrived, the Fleet disembarked for their duties. The siege of the coastal wastes soon began.