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Tycon checked the oven and prodded the beef roast. Everything was coming along well. He removed the roast and set it aside-- it would finish cooking as he allowed it to rest.

He was granted permission to utilize the kitchens at the inn... the... 'Vertically-Challenged Person Defecating Into A Bucket Inn,' he believed it was called. On the following morning, Dragan was going to travel by Sea Wolf ship west towards Bael Turath.

Sending word to the Gatekeepers was an unfortunate duty that fell to Tycon and Sol Invictus as first-responders. It would be socially irresponsible not to. Tycon was going to send Taree with him. From Bael Turath, the pair could head to the Free Nation, where Dragan could nurture Taree with the resources he commanded there.

She wanted to beco strong. The Free Nation-- so would call it the Beast Kingdoms, would provide her with that opportunity.

Tycon was preparing a decent al for Invictus (and for the inn goers that ca in for the lunch rush.) It was his way of thanking the silver-haired whelp, Kimura Taree, for accompanying them. He and Lone were working on a full picnic basket for her and Pale, to be full of sandwiches, side dishes, and a cotton cake.

"Mister Lone."

"Yes, chef!" Barza Keith, the Lone Shadowdark, brandished two kitchen knives, one in each hand.

Tycon glared with incredulity, "What... are you doing?"

"I uh... I was cutting the tomatoes like you asked, Boss?"

Walking over, Tycon looked over to a pile of unevenly cut, pointed chunks of red, "Mister Lone. I *have* told you we were making sandwiches, yes?"

"Yes, chef!" Lone shouted, his face full of confidence and pride.

Tycon grabbed a filet knife from a rack, "Then why didn't you cut the tomatoes into thin slices, capable of being placed onto flat sandwiches?"

"W-wait, Boss! Don't stab !" Lone pleaded.

"This knife is better suited to slicing," Tycon picked up a whetstone and began to casually sharpen the blade.

"W-w-waaaaait! Hold on!! I-- I..." Lone reached over and grabbed a mixing bowl, "I lted the butter and whisked the cake batter like you asked!"

Tycon examined the bowl and felt his heart break. Instead of a smooth, creamy batter, the mixing bowl was full of rock-like chunks, "Mister Lone... Did you lt the butter?"

"Boss! I did! Just like you asked! I let it warm up on the double-boiler and then I mixed it in!"

Tycon took the bowl and cradled it like it was his injured child, "Did you lt... the butter... until it was completely liquefied?"

Lone opened his mouth, then his pupils dilated. It appeared that he understood the mistake he had made.

Tycon tightly gripped the handle of the filet knife. He had to be mindful of his technique when using it.

...

After Tycon deposited the Lone Shadowdark at a local infirmary, he wore his shiny Kingdom armor to et with High-Captain Lang Hai at the port, boarding the Beaurte fleet's flagship, the Elizabeth Dare.

​ "So this is my ship! Don't touch anything! You probably don't know any sea stuff, so don't pretend to!!" Hai insisted.

The boy had replaced his torn Marine uniform with an older, saltier set. The young man, by his attire alone, looked the part of a veteran professional.

Tycon pointed, "That bundle of ropes look rotted through."

Hai stood in front of Tycon, blocking his view, "Ahaha! That's SEA WOLF Rope! The roughest, toughest, anest rope on the western continent-- nay, in all the realms!!"

"I... see." Tycon forced a smile, "Where is your First Lieutenant? Perhaps I should talk to her, instead."

Hai growled, pointing angrily, "I'm the Captain, nerd! I know everything that goes on in my ship and everything my very professional crew knows! I'm the one you talk to about missions and quests!"

Tycon leaned to the side, looking over Hai's Captain's hat, "Did you give one of your n a quest to 'professionally' fornicate with a fish."

Hai imdiately turned and dashed over to the end of the ship at an impressive speed. He used both arms to pick up the man, hold him over his head, and toss him overboard.

The man's trousers remained on the deck.

The blue-haired boy dashed back, "Ignore that. What were we talking about?"

Tycon smiled weakly. He took solace in the fact that he wasn't the only guild leader of a company of fools. He decided to take a different approach in talking to the boy-Captain.

"Ahem." Tycon cleared his throat and spoke asuredly, "As High-Captain of your Sea Wolf fleet and of your very impressive ship, I'm certain you are quite busy, Lang Hai."

Hai crossed his arms and nodded, "Oh, yeah! Real busy! Always busy, Uh... What was your na again... Ehh. Baron?"

"Tycon. Just... Tycon."

Tycon tried to ignore the various crewmbers milling about aimlessly, pretending to work. One was pretending to count cannonballs without note-taking gear. Another was scrubbing a barrel. The young girl, Rico, had drawn squares on the deck with chalk and was playing a children's hopping ga.

"Then perhaps soone less-busy should lead around the ship? Like Eilean, perhaps." Tycon remained hopeful. Talking to the boy-Captain was... a chore.

"Oh, right! Yeah. That makes sense," Hai averted his gaze, nodding to himself. "I err... First Lieutenant Eilean is currently out purchasing supplies... Ahem. So I've taken ti out of my busy schedule to show you around!"

Tycon nodded. The Sea Witch had ditched her Captain to do actual work... which begged the question of why Lang Hai remained on the ship.

...Perhaps it had to do with the boy's penchant for destruction and the fact that the insurance policy Eilean had purchased likely wouldn't cover additional damages.

"So that's the poop deck!" Hai declared with an illogical sense of pride, "What's next? The bilge pumps? The tal box where we put Rico when she misbehaves? Ooh, I can show you the cannons! 5 of them work, for sure!"

A gentleman Marine with a shield on his back hurried to Lang Hai's side and mumbled sothing into the boy-Captain's ear. Hai scowled, punched the man in the gut, and then threw him off of the ship.

"Psh. Who needs 5 working cannons, anyroad! Ship to ship combat is too easy with those!" Hai laughed, "Ahahaa! The Elizabeth Dare needs no such handicap!"

Tycon glanced over the deck railing at the quickly-sinking Marine, "That man was wearing a shield and heavy armor."

"Let show you to the Captain's quarters! We even have a map!!" Hai began to hustle down a set of rotting stairs, skipping a few choice steps.

Tycon grimaced and followed, taking care to not step on the stairs the young man avoided.

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