We Bleed The Kingdoms Dry - CETO & BARUN

The soft hum of the waves lapping against the hull of the Ranger found Barun in a comfortable sleep. Those fierce blue eyes closed and for once the beast looked peaceful. The night before had seen him up well into the later hours of the last watch. With drink at his hooves and his mind turned to the maps and logs scattered before him he had done his best to occupy his thoughts. And for a time he had. Until the silence became too loud of fill with busy work. And then he turned to heavier liquor.

An older, more aged Rum, strong than the one he had been nursing and by the time morning clawed her light towards the sky he had, in a drunken stupor, dragged himself off to bed. And he had remained in his rum induced coma until a pounding at his door caused the beast to bolt upright. A single movement and he had thrown himself to his feet and at the same time, he had unsheathed his short sword in a flash of iron and a thick glowing aura of navy. Eyes, wild and full of their typical malice snapped around his surroundings for a moment before the tightly coiled muscles of the scarred male shifted and relaxed. Silently he grabbed the sheath and tethered it to his foreleg and with blade floating along beside him he moved to the door of his cabin.

“Captain?” The sound from outside the door was a tentative and careful question but Barun did not answer it too swiftly. A few moments of silence and he pushed open the door. “I take it we’ve made port?” The question was answered with a question as the raider moved the blade so it sheathed itself at his leg. “Aye.” “Good. Take all of the crew not needed ashore. The rest of them stay behind to unload our prize. From there, orders will be given as needed. And remember every bit of this prize is to be sold for War Lord Hira. Whatever coin we get from it is at her discretion, not ours. Am I clear?” “Aye.” “Good.”

With nothing left but the tasks of moving cargo and seeing the ship emptied of goods, Barun spent the next few hours locked in his cabin going over rosters and supplies lists as they came to him. It would be almost evening before he was told the last of the crew to go ashore were waiting for their Captain. With tired eyes, he turned from his books and logs and made his way out of his quarters. The familiar feel of the wood beneath his hooves was something he was loathe to leave but he knew he would be needed ashore. And so without a word he boarded the rowboat without a sound. He would not be happy until he was on the sea again. He never was. But he could be distracted. Distracted was good. The night would find him in a tavern. Across his face annoyance and disgust was written in proverbial letters as large as could be. At least until the doors swung open and she stepped her hoof into his realm once more.

“Captain Ceto, as I live and breath! What brings you to Sunken Hoof Bay this time?”

He pushed himself to his hooves and the smirk that danced across his lips was devious and plain as day wild and confident. Closing the space between them he looked her over “Heave to, it’s been too damn long.” The words were dripping with a meaning far more carnal than they appeared. She knew him. She knew what he was like. It would not escape her. Distraction was what Barun wanted and it had found him. “Come, the rum’s on me tonight… if you still drink with War-Forged Raiders… or are the pirates of Talori too good for our waters and drink these days?” It was a mocking tone that meant nothing but respect. Two sea dogs testing each other once more. It was not something that ever changed with Barun and Ceto. And he didn’t care to let it in the first place.
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POST: 1
WORD COUNT: 667