Osopelea: Chapter I - Cast Off

Written by MadDogAirPirate
Illustrated by Weaselgrease

"Sorry, mate. There's nothin' I can do."

The guard's words hung in the air and began to infuriate Kyjask. There were few statements that bothered him more than that one. There was always something that could be done. But already, he realized that he'd made a mistake, coming to this guy. The noklumay guard, who would be described as a kangaroo by some humans, could be a little thick and easy to influence. By the same token, when it came to getting anything serious done, he was not the guy for the job.

"Uh, Figjam, your name is, right?" Kyjask was an ekrate, from a race that the humans would deem rats. "You were working this afternoon, on the docks here, right?"

"Too right I was," the guard confirmed, beaming that someone had recognized the job he was doing.

"So," Kyjask emphasized, "you saw me lugging barrels onto this ship all afternoon."

The noklumay nodded. "Yeah. Not doubtin' you there." Figjam's accent was heavier than most, a sure sign he hadn't been grown up in the city of Bafien. "But read the paper. Farran said he's paying ya five silver fer transporting the crates onto his ship."

"And you saw me working."

"Them's barrels. I know it ain't right. You've been had. You know it, and I know it. But he's got an official trader's contract that you signed." Figjam glanced off past Kyjask at Farran, the grin on the merchant trader's face just as foxlike as the rest of him. Raposa were never to be trusted.

They were a sneaky race.

That was part of what really got to Kyjask. The fox had pulled one over on him and he had nothing to show for it.

"So, why do you think I was doing all that work? He just gets free labor, now, that how it works?" the ekrate demanded irritably.

Figjam sighed. "Look, he's got yer knackers twisted. I get that. Jus' don't fall for it twice. Best I can give ya."

Kyjask glanced back just in time to get a glimpse of Farran tipping his posh merchant's hat forward before turning and walking away.

"I gotta get back on patrol. I'm off." The noklumay nodded and smiled before heading off.

Kyjask found his irritation building. It was so very strange to him. As an ekrate, he was used to being distrusted. The nation of Aveyma did allow for most of the races within its borders, but given that it bordered Kejarrik, the magical stronghold nation of ekrate, he was used to getting the occasional suspicious glance. It had also usually meant that no one tried to swindle him, as ekrate were rather notorious for being poor losers.

Kyjask didn't even suffer being discounted for his size as some ekrate did. While most ekrate were around five feet in height, Kyjask had the bloodline of one of the larger warrens. It would have meant something in terms of status back in Kejarrik. But his father had, for what Kyjask understood, crossed some of the more important types there in his business dealings. The surname Feldspar was enough to raise an eyebrow in most Aveyman cities.

But at just a few inches short of six feet, Kyjask fit into the range of most Aveyman citizens. It just gave people one reason less to pull a fast one. Yet here he was. The brown-furred ekrate didn't look well-connected, to be sure. His dirt-stained gray trousers were shredded thoroughly down by his ankles. The string that cinched their waistline was tied into a bow that more ended up a frayed mess. The shirt he wore had been a deep wine purple, but it was so old and used that much of the colored dye had faded out of it, a pale remembrance of what it once was. So perhaps it was the fact that he looked poor was what had caused him to become the dupe today. Even that was amazing to him. His father was a smuggler, certainly with enough money and followers to rough up some pompous raposa. Those damned foxes thought they could get away with anything.

Working the docks wasn't something that Kyjask minded. Honest hard work was something he'd come to appreciate in himself and in others. But when he was cheated out of payment, it certainly didn't incline him to try again so easily. He needed a drink.

The Salty Breeze tavern was right on the waterfront, making it a favorite for its intended patron base of sailors and dockworkers. Merchants didn't usually bother with the place, nor did anyone from the nicer parts of the city of Bafien. That was what made the ekrate in the aubergine robes so very out of place.

It was hardly the first ekrate that Kyjask had seen in mage's robes in Bafien.

"Nice day," the likely mage remarked with a thin smile as Kyjask walked past. The disgruntled rat would only flash an indulgent smile of his own before brushing through the tavern door.

It took him only a brief moment to locate a table off to the side, far from other patrons. He wanted to be alone to think. Hard though that could be in a tavern, at the moment the atmosphere felt rather subdued. Kyjask sank into the chair.

He hadn't even looked around for a serving wench. He was still thinking.

"Buy you a drink?" That male voice had greeted him just a moment ago.

Kyjask looked up with a scowl. "Why?"

The older ekrate in the loud robe shrugged. "Does there have to be a reason?"

"Yeah," the younger replied automatically. "There does. I've paid attention long enough to know that nobody does anything without some expectation. Even when they think they have none... they do."

"Well," the mage replied evenly. "It does sound like you've been paying attention. ... If to the wrong things."

"Look, I'm aiming to enjoy a drink without having someone ramble on at me."

"Then why not let me buy you one?"

Kyjask grunted, annoyed.

"Especially given that you seem to have been cheated out of some money." The mage's revelation had allowed the first shoe to drop, in Kyjask's mind.

"Aware of that, huh?"

"I've paid attention long enough," he remarked cheekily. "What'll you have?"

"What I'd like," Kyjask seethed, "is a chance to hit him right in the face."

"You're what... late twenties?" the mage asked. He took a seat opposite Kyjask at the table.

Kyjask raised an eyebrow. "Twenty-eight."

The mage rested on his elbow, looking right at Kyjask. "And you're just a dockworker, with a mindset like that? I'm shocked."

This mage was beginning to irritate him. "Just what're you getting at?"

"Oh," the older ekrate remarked nonchalantly, "testing you, I suppose."

"I'm plenty testy already, thanks."

"There's a saying at the academy I teach. Fighting fire with fire sounds like a good idea, until you realize how effective water is."

Kyjask rolled his eyes. "That's great."

"It means, it's tempting to use the most destructive method, or to attack without thinking. Usually, that's not the best way to solve the problem. Especially long-term," the ekrate explained sagely.

Kyjask recoiled with a start as a levitated bottle of rum had settled itself on the table. The mage wasn't even focusing on it, as he was simultaneously sending a few coins in the direction of the surprised laspira barkeep. The dragon humanoid snorted a wisp of frost, but accepted the money with a nod.

"Don't think for a minute that I'm snowed into believing you're helping me just to help me."

"Well," the older ekrate remarked with another shrug. "I haven't really helped you yet. And I'm not going to. Not directly, anyway. That bit I just told you was my help." He offered a somewhat gaunt hand across the table. "My name is Ketakris, by the way. I'm the head of the AAAA. The magic school on the hill."

Kyjask took it reluctantly. "So basically, you came to lecture me."

He smiled good-naturedly. "I am a headmaster. Teaching is what I do, I suppose."

Two glasses had settled onto the table from above, no doubt from Ketakris's prestidigitation. A bottle of rum followed, settling onto the table with a thump. Kyjask took the moment to pour the rum manually.

"I suppose you're expecting me to just believe you're offering me your wisdom because everyone should have such insight?"

"By the flames, absolutely not. Of course I have reason to do business with you."

"And what reason is that?" Kyjask asked, the annoyance returning.

"I'm not telling you," he returned glibly.

Glowering, Kyjask rose from the table.

"Oh, sit down, my boy, sit down." The older ekrate chuckled. "You should learn to take disappointment better."

Kyjask shook his head, steamed. "I don't have time for games."

"Indeed," Ketakris remarked sourly. "You have very important things to do. Which will it be, sulk over being cheated, or plot vengeance on a shifty merchant? Even going home to sleep would be more productive than either of those."

That had been enough. With a sneer of derision, Kyjask headed for the door. This old mage wasn't even worth staying for the drink.

"You should know," the mage called after him, "that you're being awarded something rather valuable."

The young dockworker froze in his tracks. Knowing he'd regret it, no matter what he did, he reeled on Ketakris. "Am I, now?" he patronized.

"Your father was a sea captain, was he not?" the mage asked with an arched eyebrow.

"It's a stretch to claim I had a father."

"You spawned from the air, then?" Ketakris asked with an amused smile.

Kyjask took a seat at the table again. He jabbed his index finger onto the table. "Krizzik knocked up my mother while he was drunk. When he found out, he skipped town and didn't come back for over two years. I've heard my mother rant about it far too many times."

Ketakris only nodded in response.

"He never threw so much as a copper at us, never set foot in our house. The two times I ever tried to visit him when he was in port, he denied he ever had a son. He told me that the sea was no place for a boy like me."

"You're twenty-eight now, you said. These happened recently?" the mage questioned.

Kyjask shook his head. "When I was... maybe fourteen. I wanted to be a cabin boy on his ship. He told me I couldn't handle it."

The mage nodded again. "Have you sailed under anyone else?"

"Up until this year, I stayed in port. I never went far from this city. ... I had my mother to take care of."

Ketakris grunted. "She died two months ago, didn't she?"

The words seemed to gather in his stomach and just gnaw at him from the inside. "Yeah."

Ketakris paused for a moment, seeming to weigh the topic that needed to come up. "Your father has deeded the Encroaching Tempest to you," he explained. When Kyjask said nothing in response, the old rat clarified, "his ship."

"I know what it is," Kyjask remarked with a hint of indignation.

"Well, it sounds to me like you have no anchor, here. I trust you'll be taking the ship, then?"

"The ship has a crew, doesn't it?"

"Indeed, it does. It would effectively be making you the captain... provided they accept you."

The last four words felt heavy as soon as Ketakris had delivered them.

"Either way, I own the ship. They don't like it, they can walk... right?"

Ketakris drummed his fingers on the table. "I suppose that's true."

Kyjask mulled it over. "So why is a mage telling me this news? You're not some government official, are you?"

"Not in the sense you're thinking, no. I bring it up because I did business with your father. And, as you're inheriting the ship-" the old one continued.

Kyjask, however, had heard enough. "Stop right there. You're trying to grease my wheels before I've even gotten the official word. I know your game."

"That so?" Ketakris asked with an amused grin. "Well, with that level of street smarts, I'm sure you'll get what's coming to you."

Kyjask finished off his glass of rum. "Save it for someone else, if you would. If we have business, I'll see you in due time."

"Overdue time, perhaps." The elder ekrate wore a thin smile. He stood up. "I'd best be on my way. I have documents to review. You can have the rest of the bottle, if you like." He headed for the door, and departed without another word.

Not wanting the bottle of rum to go to waste, Kyjask had nursed it through the night until the barkeep locked away his stores so that he could get some sleep. Kyjask had fished out enough coin to get a basic room, as it was cheaper than stumbling home.

------------------------

The hours passed, and the light of day was shining in from the small window of his room when he heard a loud rap at the door.

Half asleep, he launched his voice at the disturbance. "I've got this room 'til dusk! Beat it!"

"Kyjask? Feldspar?"

That was his last name. Someone had business with him. Remembering what the old ekrate had said, he sat up and planted his large feet on the all-too-cold floor. One would have thought the sun would have warmed it up.

Pulling the door open, Kyjask saw someone he didn't recognize in the least. He looked to be a middle-aged kanin. The long-eared rabbit was so thin that he bordered on being gaunt. Despite his meager bearing, he had a rather upturned nose and posture to match that suggested a stuffy pride. He was dressed in a simple, yet stately blue tunic. It looked to have enough of a classy shine that the rat wondered if it was made of silk. He was another that seemed a bit out of place at this inn. As soon as he laid eyes on Kyjask, the kanin produced a scroll from his pocket as well as a sheet of yellowed parchment.

"I regret to inform you of your father's passing, but, as subject to the property registration statutes of the nation of Aveyma, he has been reported missing, he has remained so for a fortnight, and, as such, the property of his ship, the Encroaching Tempest, is slated to transfer to your name." He found a feather pen on his person, tucked into some obscure pocket. "If you would, please...." He found his way over to a small end table in the room. "I require signatures in three places."

Kyjask grunted. "Yeah, yeah, I heard already." He followed along in signing the document, only after he'd quickly perused the contents. It sure looked like he was getting the ship as well as any belongings on it that had belonged to his father, Krizzik.

"Now," the kanin instructed. "The ship is moored on the fourth dock from the northern shore. I've verified as much. That's the north side, four docks in. I am to be keeping this scroll as a record of transference, but I will be giving you a letter officially recognizing the transfer."

"You usually seek out folks like this?" Kyjask asked pointedly.

"The mage Ketakris provided us with your location, and I prefer to finish business as quickly as possible, Mr. Feldspar."

"Kyjask, please," the ekrate insisted.

The formal kanin merely nodded. "The transfer is complete, so you can go and see to your ship if you like."

"A quick question. If I have any trouble with the crew... how do I, uh-"

"Kyjask, you would rely on the guard, much as one would in any dispute. This document should be all you need. If you do have trouble, you can also stop by the Tax Collector's Office. I assure you, we have all necessary records on property."

"So wait," Kyjask cut in. "I'll have to pay taxes on the ship?"

The rabbit raised an eyebrow. "That's a surprise to you? Fortunately, you will not until the year's end. Good day to you." The kanin headed off.

"Wait. In case I need to find you, your name is....?"

"Arqfort. That's my last name, and it's all you'll need." The kanin made it clear by his continued departure that he was not planning to linger and answer questions all day.

That left Kyjask with a penned recognition as the owner of the Encroaching Tempest. He had a ship. He may even have a crew. He'd always wanted to go sailing, and he'd have settled for being a common swab. He would be in charge of an entire ship. Oh, he had some idea of ships, with how many he'd ever seen pulling in and out of port. Still. This was a lot to absorb.

A part of him doubted the wisdom of what he had decided, but nonetheless, Kyjask felt the need to check out this ship. Was it a leaking tub or a vast frigate? Perhaps it was more than that, though. Kyjask did feel a bit of curiosity surrounding the crew. For what he'd observed, his father usually kept many of the same sailors about. He'd seen them a few times a year, whenever they made port. Even so, he'd never gotten to know them up close.

It looked to be mid-morning from the position of the sun. That tended to be a busy time on the docks, with many a ship loading or unloading cargo before setting sail later in the day. It didn't take long, given his familiarity, to locate the dock that supposedly held his ship. When he'd laid his eyes upon it, Kyjask realized that he had seen that ship docked for over a week. It was a brig, none too small, but it bore a fairly narrow design to suggest that it was meant for speed more than hauling freight. That fit, as his father Krizzik had a reputation for being a smuggler. On the surface, he passed as a freighter, but that veil was rather thin... at least in the port of Bafien. The sails were down, and the deck seemed to be empty. Kyjask did see a pair of sailors near the ship's ramp, which was down at the moment. One was a rather large codrayha; members of that weaselly race were not known to be trustworthy. The other was likely an ixisan. Wings meant that he could only be an ixisan or an ixipaz, but judging by those fangs, he was an ixisan- a blood drinker and carnivore. The bat's very race was often mistrusted for tales of their savagery. Not many existed in a mixed-race nation like Aveyma.

Letter in hand, Kyjask approached the ramp, immediately catching the two's notice as he did so.

"Merchant?" the codrayha implied presumptuously. "You'll want to press on. We've already got cargo and a destined port of call."

Kyjask nodded. "All well and good, but I'm not a merchant. Which port's your destination?"

That raised the codrayha's eyebrow. The weasel's neutral disposition soured. "If you don't have financial business with us, you don't have business with us at all," he returned curtly.

The ekrate held out the letter he'd received. "Given that I've inherited the ship, I can say it's my business. Your name is?"

"Ledge," he replied sharply. He squinted a bit as he peered at the letter. "Here now. How the hell would you be the owner of... I'll be. You're Krizzik's son? Didn't know he had one."

"He has one," the ixisan interjected in an austere voice, the kind that no one dared ever ignore. "But this is the first I've heard anything about him inheriting the ship."

"Yeah," the codrayha agreed. "You even a sailor?" he asked.

Kyjask admitted, "Most of my experience has been on the docks, but I've been to sea."

The two glanced at each other. "We're not slated to sail until an hour before dawn hits," the codrayha offered. "We've got a smattering of the crew on board at the moment if you wanted to meet with them. Pretty sure the ship's mage- well, one of 'em, anyway, is aboard. The captain and first mate aren't. Xicatl, the one behind me, is second mate, though."

The ekrate tugged at one of the tails of the mustache that hung from his face. "Well then, I guess you're the one to talk to," Kyjask concluded as he took a step past Ledge. "Xicatl, is it?" He extended his hand in greeting. Xicatl, however, stared coldly down at it and made no movement at all to accept it.

"I'm the one in charge of guarding the ship, right now," Xicatl corrected, "but any large decisions or discussions are the business of the captain. If you're to set even one toe aboard, remember... if anything goes wrong, if anything's damaged, you answer to me, and I'll make sure you answer."

Kyjask tried to maintain his smile, though he was sure he flinched a little bit under that cold stare. "So... permission to come aboard?"

Xicatl took a small step to the side of the gangplank, but that was all the answer he gave.

Ledge gave the verbal part. "Yeah, yeah, go on. Far as we're concerned for now, though, you're a visitor, no matter what that letter says. If the captain says otherwise, then it'll change."

Kyjask started up the gangplank.

"Hold on," Ledge interjected soon after the ekrate had passed him. "I'm going with you."

"You have to?" Kyjask asked, wary.

"You're either our new captain or someone to keep an eye on," the codrayha remarked.

"Suit yourself." He stepped onto the deck of the ship, meandering toward the center as he tried to get a sense of it.

"Oh believe me, I do. And it don't bother me if I unsuit everyone else." The voice came from just a few steps behind him.

Kyjask peered back at the codrayha, who wore a cryptic but aggressive grin. "Fine. So, you gonna give me the tour?"

The codrayha sneered a bit. "Do I look like a tour guide to you?"

The ekrate halted in his tracks. "You'd rather I just wander the ship aimlessly and waste our time?"

The sneer turned into a half-smile. "It's a slow time of day."

Kyjask changed his tactic. "So where would I find this ship's mage?"

"You know," the codrayha remarked, "you really should meet him. Not to mention we can discuss this captain business on the way." He started past Kyjask, toward a set of wooden steps that horseshoed around as they led down to the deck below. "This way." As he started down the steps, the codrayha asked, "so, just find out today you're our captain?"

"Yeah," Kyjask confirmed.

"And you really think you're gonna walk right in, and you're in charge? When you don't know the crew, or what's happened, and you've never sailed in your life?"

"I've sailed," Kyjask protested vainly.

"Yeah, yeah," Ledge remarked dismissively. "Point is, we were used to takin' orders from yer dad, and that was several weeks ago when it stopped. We expected to get a few weeks break, get our affairs in order, and sail on."

Kyjask was too engrossed in the conversation to really be observing the layout of the ship. "Well, who would have been in charge?"

Ledge snickered. "You mean you don't even know that?"

"I'd assume the first mate."

"Yeah, the first mate. ... Know who he is?" Ledge stopped walking and put his hand on the ship's nearby wall.

"I don't really know any of you by name, other than you and Xicatl."

The codrayha grinned. "Oh this is rich. Well, c'mon, uh... captain." He beckoned Kyjask onward. "We're almost to the mage's quarters. You do realize you're gonna be the one who keeps order on this ship?"

"Well, yeah."

"Good. I was lookin' for a little fun, anyways, today." He thumbed toward the door he'd reached. "Here we are." The codrayha tried the knob, but it had very little give to it. "Well, well. Locked. Like I'm surprised." He reached down into a small pouch he was wearing.

"You have a key?" Kyjask asked.

The instrument he'd pulled out told another story. "Nope." It was a lockpick. "I ain't here just to be a pretty face, ekrate." It took almost no time at all before a metallic click indicated a shift from within the lock. This time, when he tried the handle, it turned.

"Who's there?" asked a voice from within the room. It was male, but didn't have that cutting edge that Ledge or Xicatl had to theirs. This fellow sounded nervous... almost timid.

Ledge opened the door in response. The mage's quarter was fairly small, with two desks at the forefront, one against each wall, and a bookshelf that was only half full against the left wall. There was a bed toward the back of the room, with a small porthole just above it. It may only have been about the size of an apple, but Kyjask was impressed that this ship had glass windows at all. Standing bolt upright in front of the bed was an ekrate on the thinner side, though a slight paunch suggested some softer living and good meals even beneath the fabric of his powder blue robe. Alarm read on his face as he took a step back, even though there was nowhere to truly go. His thin moustache hung above the ekrate's slightly agape mouth, almost as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't.

"Ahhh," Ledge intoned. "Fancy seeing you here."

"It's my room," the ekrate managed, eyes darting to Kyjask, the one unknown to him.

"It's the mage's quarters. You know we're planning to reassign it to Agar," Ledge corrected with a grin.

"That's not certain yet."

"Oh, it's certain, Secharik. You had an arrangement with Captain Krizzik, but he hasn't been the captain for over a month," Ledge reminded the thin ekrate.

"Wait, wait," Kyjask interjected. "What arrangement?"

Ledge turned his attention from Secharik toward Kyjask. "You know, that's a good question. While the rest of us here earn our keep performing the ship's duties, good ol' Secharik here has been hired as the ship's mage, for years. Quite a nice wage, and he even gets to keep his son on board, even though he never did much for duties either. It never made sense to the lot of us, but what the captain decides, that's the way things are." The codrayha took a step closer, focusing once again on Secharik. "There're those of us on the ship that think maybe Krizzik's not dead. He vanished on the sea last month. No one can get into the captain's cabin." Ledge peered back over his shoulder at Kyjask. "Now, Ugrensh was first mate of this vessel. Law of the sea is that if the captain dies, the first mate takes over. We were expecting that he was going to be in charge."

Secharik eyed Kyjask, almost as if pleading silently for help.

"Ugrensh was one of the close advisors to Krizzik. Expectedly. He is first mate, after all. Secharik was considered an advisor as well, and the two of 'em didn't see eye to eye. Ugrensh always said Secharik was vastly overpaid, soft, and a sign of weakness for this ship. So, on the way back to port, here, to get the legalities straightened out, Ugrensh thought things out. Krizzik vanished. Maybe Secharik knew something." Ledge took another step forward.

"And I don't!" Secharik snapped fervently.

"So you say."

"And you've found nothing to the contrary. I know that, since I really do not know anything," the thin ekrate pointed out.

"Things can even get by me," Ledge admitted. "The point," he murmured, looking at Kyjask, "is that when the discussion got heated, Ugrensh charged that Secharik was a travesty of a ship's mage. He couldn't scry Krizzik's location."

"You cannot scry a dead body," Secharik murmured. "Granted, that doesn't mean that he's dead."

"But what it does mean is that you're pretty useless," Ledge remarked. "Ugrensh had you test your magical abilities. Over ten years a ship's mage, here, and aside from moving a little water around, you didn't seem able to do very much."

"You do realize," Secharik pushed back, "that I was under tremendous pressure."

"Battle is pressure," the codrayha shot back. "If you can't handle Ugrensh and some crew getting testy, how are you going to help us in battle?"

"I'd say you have a short memory," Secharik began, "but you've only been with us a year or so. Ugrensh, however, has seen me be quite useful in skirmishes."

"Point is, Krizzik's not here to shield you, and Ugrensh isn't about to, either." Ledge glanced over at Kyjask. "So let me ask you, captain," the weasel needled with obvious contempt for the last word he uttered, "are you going to pay a fellow like this the fee of a ship's mage if he can't do anything useful?"

Kyjask balked at answering that. He'd inherited a ship. Did he even have money to pay a crew? Chances are the ship would have gold. Until he knew, though, he was hardly fit to give much of any answer. This was proving more difficult than he thought.

"Hold on." Seizing on the halt in conversation, Secharik crooked a finger at Kyjask. "You're... who are you?"

Grateful for the detour in topic, Kyjask answered. "I'm Krizzik's son, Kyjask. The ship was left to me. And with it, the title of captain as well."

"Says you," Ledge retorted.

"Right. Says me. And says the document in my trousers, which you've damned well seen." He peered at Ledge. "On the off chance I do become captain, you might not want to piss off your boss, just yet."

"Well, then, boss," the codrayha pushed again, folding his arms as he did so, "are you going to coddle and shield this guy like your father did?"

Kyjask looked Secharik over. "Given I just met him today, I don't want to give any short-sighted answer. Perhaps he and I should talk."

"By all means," Ledge offered, waving one of his hands in the direction of Secharik.

"And you don't need to be a party to the conversation," Kyjask decided. "Get out, Ledge."

"Hey," the large codrayha protested, "you ain't the captain. Not yet, anyway. And there's a chance you're not gonna be."

"Believe what you like, but again, on the off chance... don't think I won't kick your ass good if I do end up in charge and I remember you being nothing but a pain in the ass trying to interfere with everything I did." The ekrate raised one of his eyebrows. "Out."

Muttering under his breath, Ledge turned and walked past Kyjask, exiting the small room. The door closed behind him.

Kyjask waited a few seconds before creeping closer to the door. "Not hearing any footsteps walking away," he pointed out through the door.

A muffled curse sounded, followed by ship boards creaking under something's weight.

"Don't worry," Secharik assured. He gestured toward the door, which seemed to glisten with a translucent sheen of light. "I know how to soundproof, at least."

Kyjask breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

For the first time Secharik smiled as he sank backward to sit on the bed. "I'm not as inept as he makes me sound. He just favors Ugrensh. Or, more accurately," he corrected with a sigh, "he figured that Ugrensh would come out on top in any dispute of leadership. Before now, I'd presume most on the crew figured it would be between him and me. They knew there was a chance Krizzik would name someone else the beneficiary for the ship. What they didn't guess," he remarked with a thin smile, "was that it would be you."

"And you did?" Kyjask asked, trying to figure out the mage.

"Oh, no. I knew Krizzik had a son, but leaving his ship to someone who'd never sailed on it... it's quite a surprise." Secharik gestured to one of the desks on the side of the room, with a kettle, held aloft by a metal hook, being heated above a candle. "Can I offer you some tea?"

"Uh, no," the larger ekrate declined flatly. "Given what Ledge told me, we have a lot to talk about. Just why would my dad cut a deal like that? Pay you lots of money to be a ship's mage, give you and your son board? Especially if you're not that good?"

"As I said," the thin ekrate uttered with clear annoyance in his voice, "I'm not as bad as Ledge makes me out to be. I am able to do a bunch of spells. Most are just with water. Scrying relies on life magic, and I've not been trained in druidic arts. Oh, I've picked up a few things from scrolls and books, but it's far from my best subject." He got up to collect a cup of tea for himself. "And, as Ledge said, himself, your father trusted me as one of his advisors. That was worth a lot to him. It's worthless to Ugrensh. Worse, it's a sore point, as I believe he sees me as a threat, however minor, to him taking control of this ship. About a third of our crew are ekrate or ekmuse, and I have great rapport with them. Ugrensh has more influence with everyone else. Only Krizzik really could keep us all in line."

"Something tells me we should have a few long talks about my father. But that will come later. For now, I'm more looking to figure out what I'm getting into. You don't want to be in charge of this ship?" Kyjask checked.

"Of course not!" Secharik protested. "I advise. I'm not really the type to take control." He finished pouring his tea, then set the kettle back above the flame. "Given my relationship with Ugrensh, I'd already take you by default as our new captain."

Kyjask leaned against the wall. "So who's this other mage Ledge mentioned?"

"Agar." Secharik took a seat back on the bed. "He's a very recent addition to the crew. Just joined us two months ago. Krizzik hired him to help with magics in which I'm not very polished. Fire, earth... wind. Life."

"I'm no mage... how many kinds of magic are there?"

"Five." Secharik's tone was dark.

"Agar was brought aboard because he was better than you at four of the five schools of magic?" Kyjask clarified.

"He's decent at water, too," Secharik admitted. "It's my understanding that that's rare. Usually someone has prominent talent in a few schools, but not all five."

"You're not making much of a case for yourself as a mage."

"No," he admitted sadly. "I suppose not."

Kyjask took a moment to consider. There had to be something he was missing. "What about your son?"

Secharik stiffened immediately. "What about him?" he asked mechanically.

"Where does he figure into this? How old is he, and is he a member of the crew?"

Secharik opted to down the tea he was holding, immediately regretting it as apparently it was too hot. He set the cup onto the floor in front of him as he suffered through the discomfort. "My son is under my care. He's not paid a wage or a member of this crew."

"Why would my father allow a permanent... passenger on his ship?" the ekrate questioned, knowing full-well he'd stumbled onto something.

"As a favor to me," Secharik offered curtly. "Any affairs of this ship... my son is not a part of them, understand?"

Kyjask shrugged. "Again. You're not making much of a case for me to continue the arrangement. What if I dismiss him?"

Stony silence followed for a handful of seconds. "Then I suppose you'll be dismissing me in tandem. My son remains under my care." Secharik didn't look very happy at the prospect.

"That's something you'd want?" Kyjask checked.

"Of course not!"

"But you'd expect me to keep honoring this agreement for an inept mage and a guest. How old is he?" Kyjask questioned.

"He's my concern," Secharik muttered shortly.

"You know what, I don't have time to go round and round about this," the younger ekrate snapped. By now he was getting quite annoyed. "I'm not going to afford you anything unless I know what's going on."

Secharik sighed. "Keisik is very important to me. Your father knew that."

"Yeah, my dad's a real family man," Kyjask uttered acidly. "You're telling me he went out of his way to keep you and your son together, out of the goodness of his heart, but the guy couldn't pay a visit to me for much of his life to even say hello?"

"Forgive me, Kyjask, but I don't know how much I can trust you. To expect me to just disclose everything is a lot to ask." Secharik looked down.

"So there is something to hide, here." Kyjask grunted. "Well, for now, I'm making no promises."

"But you're not kicking me off the ship?" Secharik sought.

"No promises," he repeated. Kyjask made his way for the door.

Without Ledge to guide him about, everything seemed a long mess of salt-stained wood. He found his way to a large room with rows of cots, all with top and bottom bunks, but no one looked to be present. He doubled back until he recognized the set of steps that had led him down to this level. Daylight told him that he was arriving back on deck.

Ledge was near the gangplank, talking with Xicatl quietly. The thin and ominous bat was the one who took notice of Kyjask first. It seemed the ixisan was quite observant.

"You're leaving?" the bat interrogated.

"I'm planning to meet with more of the crew," Kyjask explained. "If I can figure out where they are." He headed for the two.

Xicatl nodded. "We can point you to where a few may be. But first. Ledge." He glanced over at the large codrayha.

"On it," he confirmed, before heading for Kyjask. "Can't leave until I search ya."

"Search me? I didn't take anything," he protested.

"Maybe." Ledge was right in his way, and as tempted as he was for a second to pull his dagger, he thought better of it. The codrayha pulled the dagger from the cloth sheath in Kyjask's trousers before handing it to Xicatl. Then there was no mistaking a hand in his pocket, fishing around. Given the fit of the cloth, Ledge had plenty of room to feel about, and his hand moved to grasp something within his trousers.

Kyjask grunted. "That's not a coin pouch. Not the kind that holds money, anyway," he remarked. The ekrate wasn't embarrassed or offended. If anything, the cooler he kept his head, the more he figured he'd impress them.

Ledge kneaded Kyjask's testicles as if to suggest he was in no hurry to move on with his search. After Kyjask cleared his throat, though, Ledge let go and his hand left the pocket. He moved to the far side, first opening up the coin pouch. "These coins all yours?" he asked, loosening the drawstring with his fingers.

"Of course they are."

Ledge grinned. "Guess so, given you've got nothing more'n coppers and a couple of silver. Not exactly wealthy, are you?" He checked the other pocket, finding only the letter regarding the transference of the ship.

"Oh, I don't know. Been told I own a ship. That reminds me. What's the deal with the cabin?" he asked. "The captain's cabin. The one you can't get into."

"It's sealed by magic. No one other than the captain can get in, as far as we know," Xicatl revealed.

"Not even the ship's mages?" he asked.

"What did I just say?" Xicatl demanded, irate.

"I'm not trying to piss you off," Kyjask clarified. "I'm just trying to learn about the ship. So if I'm going to be the captain, will it open for me?"

Xicatl shrugged.

"Do you mind if I try?" he asked.

"Yes," Xicatl snapped. "Until I hear otherwise from Ugrensh, he's the captain of this ship. I don't care what that paper says."

Ledge offered the paper back to Kyjask, who took it in annoyance.

"Well, seems I need to find Ugrensh. Where would he be?" the ekrate asked.

"Not his keeper," Xicatl muttered dismissively. "Most times, though, he's at one of the taverns or inns on the shore, if he doesn't have any pressing business."

Kyjask nodded. "What's he look like?"

"Huge krigar with a mustache. You can't miss him," Xicatl explained.

"You really can't miss him," Ledge added in emphasis.

Fortunately, if there was one area Kyjask knew, it was the dockside area of Bafien. Chances were that many members of the crew would be around. Xicatl and Ledge seemed a bit tight-lipped and unwilling to help, at least until he really was their captain. Ugrensh seemed like the key to getting that done. The trouble was that he wasn't likely to be cooperative. Perhaps a deal was in order.

Kyjask couldn't help but wonder if his willingness to compromise had to do with the fact the contender was a krigar. He'd tarried with a few of that race in his time, and they did have a way to get his blood racing. What was more, though, the ekrate couldn't get around the fact that he had no money to pay the crew, or that the crew itself wasn't his by default. He may own the ship, but that was all he owned.

The Salty Breeze was already his most likely target, given the proximity, cheap rooms, and reputation for being a sailors' favorite inn. It was well-kept enough to be hygienic, but it still had a very rough feel. The furniture was intentionally carved out of driftwood. It never quite matched, but that was part of its charm. It was busy, given the time of day, but Kyjask preferred it that way. It meant he could blend in and check out the clientele.

His search for the captain had likely ended as quickly as it had begun. There, in the back of the pub, seated at the corner table purposefully crafted for larger patrons, sat a krigar larger than most he'd ever seen. There were always a few races that towered above everyone else. Noklumay were at the smaller end, but the kangaroo race still had some height over everyone else at about 7 or 8 feet. Laspira ranged the most in size and height, but the dragonfolk could easily get to 9 or 10 feet in height. Krigar often were around the same 9 or 10 feet, but even from here, Kyjask could tell that the krigar in the corner was much larger. It made him wonder if he was an osambre. Osambre weren't allowed in much of any civilized society, as they were far too bloodthirsty and cruel. They resembled krigar, but they were several feet larger, and were often characterized as less intelligent, sometimes even subsentient.

The krigar in the corner was easily 12 feet. Even the larger table and chair looked comedically small as he reclined back in the chair until it rested against the wall. The krigar had his feet propped up on the table, taking up nearly half of it. He did have a thick mustache, one much darker than his golden brown fur. He had the build of one that had done his share of lifting or fighting, with larger arms and a somewhat defined chest. The blue vest that he wore looked as if it didn't quite fit him; it held snugly on his frame. Despite the notable muscle that girded his chest, his gut captured even more attention, rising and falling in height with each breath. He wore deep brown shorts, once perhaps trousers, that were roughly frayed at the knee. The table also held a metal pail, which most likely was what the large guy was drinking from.

It's pretty well-understood that anyone's resolve and good judgement can be tested, if not stripped away, by someone if they're pleasing to the eye. The ekrate had had his head turned quite a few times in his life, but for this instance, he found it hard not to stare. If anything, talk about the ship was turning into a convenient excuse to approach the krigar at all.

The krigar himself appeared to be people watching; he scanned the room every so often with his eyes. Kyjask wasted no time, opting for the direct approach. He figured it would make him seem more confident despite the apprehension that had started to build within himself. He had almost reached the table when he caught the krigar's notice. Kyjask was met with a furrowed brow and an inquisitive look as he pulled out the other empty chair at the large table.

"Mind if I sit down?" he asked presumptuously, especially since he'd almost finished doing so by the time he finished the question. The table itself almost came up to Kyjask's neck once he was seated.

The krigar grunted. "If you're looking for hire, my ship already has full crew. I don't need any more jobbers," he rumbled. He eyed Kyjask scornfully.

The ekrate in turn felt all the more out of his league, but he tried to shake that feeling off. "Ugrensh, right? First mate on the Encroaching Tempest?"

"Captain of the Tempest," he corrected boomingly.

"Well, that's something we need to discuss," Kyjask contended. "I've inherited the Tempest. My name's Kyjask. I'm Krizzik's son."

Ugrensh's tightly knit brow loosened, then actually elevated in apparent surprise. "Krizzik's son?"

The ekrate nodded. "Yeah. They declared him dead and sent me the notice a few hours ago. I've been talking with a few of the crew, and I realize we need to talk about where this leaves us."

Ugrensh took his feet off the table and leaned forward so that all four legs of his chair touched the ground again. He leaned over it ominously to get a better look at the ekrate. "You got some proof of this? Lemme see."

Kyjask fished for the letter in his pocket explaining the transference and offered it, which Ugrensh snatched. Everything looked so small in comparison when the krigar held it. He perused the document, eliciting a low rumble as he did so.

Kyjask waited for the krigar to finish. When Ugrensh's eyes peered over the paper to bear down on the ekrate, he took it that the bear was finished reading. "Given that I own the ship, arguably, that makes me captain, doesn't it?"

"No," Ugrensh replied flatly. "It means you own wood and some sails. With Krizzik gone, the rank of captain goes to me. I was first mate."

"True," Kyjask remarked testingly, as he leaned forward on the table a little bit, "but the captain can't go anywhere or do anything without... wood and some sails."

Ugrensh leaned back a bit, his eyes rolling in annoyance as he folded his arms. "Look, Kyrask-"

"Kyjask," the ekrate corrected.

The krigar slammed his fist into the table, the middle plank of the table buckling as the sound of the impact caught most everyone's attention in the tavern. Most eyes were upon the two of them.

The barkeep was a blue-scaled laspira. The dragon was pretty large, himself, both in size and stature, but he paled when compared to the krigar. Still, sensing trouble in his tavern, he came out from behind the counter, as most of the remaining patrons just watched.

"You break any furniture of mine," the laspira clarified, "and you're out. That goes for making any racket down here."

Ugrensh stood up, the chair scraping against the wooden floor as he did so. The barkeep looked ready for trouble, but all Ugrensh did was speak. "What if we take it to a room?" he asked, clutching the letter tightly in his fist. The tavern did double as an inn, with rooms on the second floor, as Kyjask recalled.

The laspira scowled. "So you can break furniture in there?"

"How much for the night?" Ugrensh demanded, making it clear he wasn't in the mood to do much bargaining.

"We have one room that's large enough for you, I think, and it's 3 silver, but I'm going to ask for a 5 silver deposit on top of that."

Most of the patrons returned to their business.

Ugrensh reached into his coin pouch. "10 silver, and you don't disturb me until morning," he directed. He offered the coins.

With an ambivalent hand, the laspira finally accepted it. "Fine. No trouble from you, though." He reached into his pocket for a key and offered it Ugrensh. "The room's in the cellar."

Ugrensh nodded.

Kyjask had watched this exchange in silence, and he was expecting that Ugrensh was done talking with him at all. He was still working out how to ask for the letter back when the krigar thundered, "Kyjask, come with me."

It was hardly something to decline. Ducking his head a bit, Ugrensh headed through an arch in the back that led downstairs. The ekrate followed after him, wanting to say a dozen things, but not daring to utter any of them, just yet. He wasn't aware the tavern had any rooms below. He'd always thought that it just housed a wine cellar.

There was no wine cellar that he saw. Instead, the landing of the stairs connected to a hallway. At the end of it was only one door, shut.

"Hold on," the ekrate spoke, halting. "You're expecting me to go down there with you, alone?"

Ugrensh turned, a crooked smile on his lips. "Good to know you've got some sense of caution. But don't worry. There were dozens of people in the tavern. If anything happened to you, they'd know exactly who to pin it on."

Kyjask frequented this tavern himself, but he knew Ugrensh would be on a ship in a handful of hours. "Well, much as I'm sure you've got good intentions, I figure I should point out, some of my associates know I was coming to see you."

He turned his head and continued down the hall. "Relax. We just need a place to discuss things where I can express myself without getting a lot of eyes on me."

"Thanks," Kyjask remarked, "that makes me feel loads safer."

"Shut yer yap and get in here," the large krigar instructed, unlocking the door with the key. He pushed it open and crooked a finger in Kyjask's direction.

It was against his better judgement, but then again, Ugrensh still had his letter. He did still have a lot to discuss. Besides, how could he hope to take charge of the ship if he was afraid of the first mate?

The room was indeed large. Ugrensh's head fell just short of the ceiling up above, but down here, there was still room above him. The floor was black cobblestone, cool to the touch, and a subtle reminder to Kyjask that he was in need of a new pair of shoes or boots. They were cold to the soles of his feet. Four lanterns adorned the room, one in each corner, already lit. Compared to the room he'd gotten at this tavern, this one was far more spacious. It even had its own bathing area, with a square section cut into the floor large enough to house several people... or perhaps one of Ugrensh's size. It also had an enormous bed, matching the oversized nature of the bathing area and the room itself. Little else was in the room, however, save for a nightstand on the bed's far side.

Ugrensh had already made his way over to the bed, and it sagged a bit under his weight as he sat down. "Now," he began, waving the letter around, "I'm gonna make this as clear as I can. With Krizzik gone, I'm in charge of that ship. You may own it-"

"And I do," the ekrate interjected.

"But sea crew have rules and law unto themselves," he continued, his annoyance apparently building. "We keep the ship running. I don't even need you on it. If you want, when I come back to port, I can give you a share of our profits, or something, for use of the ship."

Kyjask scoffed, his arms folded as he leaned against the closed door. "I'm young, but I'm not that young, Ugrensh. I've sailed a little. Hell, I've worked the docks for years. The ship is mine. You can't get around that. Besides," he added knowingly, "you can't get into the captain's cabin."

"How did you know that?" he demanded.

"I've already paid the ship a visit. Xicatl wouldn't let me near the cabin, though." He pointed at the letter. "Like it or not, I own it. The best thing would be for us to work out something together. But I'm going with you."

Ugrensh grumbled something that Kyjask didn't catch. "I'll entertain your offer. What'd you have in mind?"

It still wasn't going as badly as he'd feared. "If you want to be the captain, that's fine. But as it's my ship, I'll be able to pull rank on where we go."

Ugrensh glared at Kyjask. "Do you not understand how a ship works? The captain is in charge."

Kyjask shrugged. "Then I guess I would have to be captain, as I own the ship."

Ugrensh stood up. "This is about to become a very short meeting." He tromped toward Kyjask, flexing his fingers as he did so.

That was part of why Kyjask had stayed by the door. "Okay, hold on, hold on." Ugrensh stopped advancing, giving the ekrate a chance to continue. "What if we had it where you were the captain, but if I ever wanted to change our course or a decision, I would tell you behind closed doors? No one would know. They'd think you were in charge."

"Let's get one thing straight, right now," Ugrensh outlined, clearly bristling. "I am in charge. This crew goes where I go and does what I say."

"Hard to do without a ship," Kyjask reminded.

Ugrensh snarled, and for a brief moment Kyjask was certain he was going to charge. He caught himself. "Let me make a proposal, then," Ugrensh offered. "You come along. You learn what it is to sail. If you end up doing well, you can earn a spot among the ship's officers."

Kyjask grunted, knowing full-well he was about to really test him. "Including captain?"

He took a deep breath. "If the crew goes for it. Sure. What the hell." He offered a very large hand in Kyjask's direction. "Do we have a deal?"

"What's my rank?" the ekrate inquired.

"You'll be the proprietor. If you work as a sailor, I'll treat you like one, and you'll have to earn your keep. If you want to sit around and drink tea, you'll still be the proprietor, but you won't be a damned sailor."

"I can question your decisions, right?" he asked.

"In private," Ugrensh assured cautiously. "The crew operates under hierarchy. I'm not gonna tolerate insubordination. But what I say goes."

All things considered, to Kyjask, that wasn't so bad. He did own a ship. He'd be able to prove himself, and he had an opportunity to do so. How fair an opportunity remained to be seen. "Deal," he decided, offering his hand.

Ugrensh gripped it tightly, grinning.

With that done, Kyjask opted to put all the cards on the table. "Besides. I think I might like meeting privately with you."

"Yeah?" Ugrensh asked, keeping the grip on Kyjask's hand. "Why's that?"

"I'm fond 'a krigar... especially big ones."

Ugrensh chuckled deeply. "Thought I caught you eyein' me a few times. Maybe we can use the room for more'n just negotiations."

"Wouldn't affect our arrangement?" Kyjask checked.

"Not like some of our crew doesn't get together from time to time," the krigar pointed out. "All we ever make sure to point out is that outside of the sexual favor itself, it doesn't carry any weight."

Kyjask grinned. "Yeah? Seems to me like you carry a lot of weight."

Ugrensh finally let go of the handshake. "You do realize." He closed the distance between himself and Kyjask. The krigar's stomach pressed against Kyjask's nose. "You only come up to my stomach. You're just a little bigger than one of my arms."

Kyjask grunted, finding it very hard to think clearly at this point. He looked up at Ugrensh, towering over him. The krigar intentionally crowded even closer, almost threatening to throw Kyjask off his balance, as the bear pressed his large body against the ekrate's. The cut of his frayed shorts was such that Kyjask could feel the mass of the krigar's testicles and sheath pushing against his chest.

"I'd give anything to stuff my head in there right now," Kyjask offered.

"Yeah?" Ugrensh asked, a crooked grin crossing his face. "It's got no buckle, no belt. It stays on because it's snug. I don't know how much room you'd have in there. I won't stop ya though. If ya can tell, it's got a little room left in there like a codpiece. Mostly it's so that when I'm full-mast it doesn't chafe."

That was all the invitation that Kyjask needed. He grabbed the frayed shorts with both hands and pulled them outward, finding some give from the cord that bound its waist. Nose and mustache first, Kyjask dipped his head in. The musk of krigar was familiar to him, but Ugrensh's was pungent. All he could smell was the krigar's groin.

The material of the shorts clung around his head, pressing into his fur and making it a little uncomfortable.He couldn't see well either. When his nose bumped flesh, though, he didn't care any longer. He mouthed over the protruding cock, licking what exposed flesh had already made its way from the krigar's sheath.

He couldn't see it, but Kyjask could feel it as Ugrensh traced a single claw up his back to hook upon Kyjask's shirt at the collar. He started to push the claw through, and the shirt started to tear.

"You won't really be needing that," Ugrensh assured as he pulled the claw against the material, ripping and splitting the shirt until he'd sliced all the way down Kyjask's back. The cloth was the only casualty, but it did give Kyjask enough cause to try pulling his head out. Ugrensh must have caught that, because as soon as he was about to, a large hand met the back of his head and pushed Kyjask back into Ugrensh's shorts.

"I'd take those pants off if you don't want the same thing to happen to them," Ugrensh suggested. He continued tearing through fabric with his claw, cutting the front of the shirt and even cutting through the sleeves. The split remnant of the ekrate's shirt fell to the ground in tatters.

This krigar really did take charge, didn't he? Kyjask reached down with his hands to grope at his front until he found the rope tie to his trousers. He unknotted them and loosened them up a bit so that they could fall off him to the ground. They finally did, once Kyjask had pulled his tail through to free them up. It left Kyjask exposed, with a firm hard-on hanging in front of him, jutting between the space of the larger krigar's legs.

"Step out of 'em."

Kyjask complied, kicking them a small distance away as he did so. He hadn't been paying as much direct attention to Ugrensh's cock while he did that, but by now it was hard to ignore. This was clearly turning the large krigar on, as his protruding cock hung virtually pushed its way into Kyjask's mouth. He didn't mind in the least; it gave him more of what he'd wanted to begin with. The rat's breath fell warmly onto Ugrensh's cock; even so, he was distracted, wondering what Ugrensh was planning to do to him.

The palm of Ugrensh's large hand pressed down on the back of his head, pushing him down upon the krigar's cock so that it was no longer optional to take it in. "Not changin' yer mind, are ya?"

Kyjask grunted in the negative, as it was all he could do, and once the hand left his head, he started pulling off it a little, tongue pushing and brushing against the length as he started blowing the krigar.

There was a satisfied, slow groan that gave Kyjask all the indication that he needed he was doing a good job.

"Thaaaat's more like it," the krigar rumbled from above. "Lemme give you better leverage."

Kyjask felt more squished as Ugrensh must have bent over, some. Kyjask felt something wrap around his ankles. He'd only figured out it was Ugrensh's hand once the krigar had hoisted his legs up into the air. It was uncomfortable, especially as he resisted gagging on the thick protrusion of Ugrensh's cock. His nose rubbed uncomfortably on the fabric as Kyjask could tell he was being twisted around, his legs in the air.

Ugrensh held one of Kyjask's ankles in each of his hands as he pulled the ekrate against his chest. Kyjask had reversed position, now, so that his front was facing Ugrensh's. Kyjask had never felt so exposed, his cock throbbing in front of Ugrensh as the krigar held him fast.

"Better, right?" the krigar remarked. "Now you can just let that cock sink right into you." For emphasis, he lowered Kyjask a bit so that Kyjask had no choice to take in even more of the thick cock. Kyjask's mouth was full, and it pressed right up against his tonsils. He gagged, but found he really couldn't even do that.

"Don't fight it," he suggested. "Try not to vomit... it's got nowhere to go, anyway. Go on. Swallow."

He had no choice. It was tough to breathe, and he fought to keep his sense of panic down. He had to. The muscles of his throat worked to choke it down, enveloping the tip of Ugrensh's cock... and pulling it downward.

There was a pleased moan of satisfaction. "Yer throat's perfect. Ain't had one like this in a while. Keep swallowin'," he commanded. "I'll give ya somethin' nice to distract ya."

It was hard not to feel a bit gored by the krigar's cock, especially since Kyjask didn't have the control or strength to pull himself off of it. Swallowing, though, seemed to convince himself that he could manage this, even if it didn't do much more than tug ever so slightly.

Then Kyjask felt it. A big, wet mouth, engulfing not just his cock, but his tail, his ass... his whole pubic region, with part of his back and his belly. His legs pulled in surprise, but Ugrensh held them fast. The tongue was slow, pushing like a wave of flesh over the length of his cock, but also up his belly. All he could feel was that tongue. It was so distracting he forgot to swallow. The urge to choke rose up in him again, so he went back to swallowing, milking the head of Ugrensh's cock as he did so.

Ugrensh let forth a growl, effectively vibrating through Kyjask's whole groin region as teeth clamped slightly down upon him to maintain a seal. Kyjask couldn't take it. The sensation was too heavy. He tried pulling his feet down, but there was nowhere for them to go. His toes curled and spasmed about, trying to get some kinetic release to way too much stimulation.

He'd never had anything close to a blowjob like this. It was a good thing he wouldn't speak, because, fuck it, he told himself, Ugrensh could be in charge.

Each swallow from Kyjask tugged on Ugrensh's cock. It seemed like each building stimulation pushed each closer. The pleased rumblings were already letting Kyjask know that Ugrensh was building toward orgasm.

With one final insistent rumble, Ugrensh dug his teeth in just a little, enough to pinch, and then Kyjask felt why in an entirely different way. The krigar's jizz hit his throat, prompting alarm and the need to swallow immediately, repetitively, to keep up with the limited airway that Kyjask had, given that he was upside down. Each swallow seemed to pull another squirt of semen. He couldn't taste any of it, but he could feel it. He could even feel it accumulating inside him.

It subsided after a moment, and the krigar loosened his jaws. He chuckled deeply. "Nice. Let's see what you've got, now."

Kyjask felt him pulled up, the thick presence of Ugrensh's cock leaving him. Happy to have full gulps of air, he lifted his head to look up just in time to see Ugrensh's maw about to engulf his whole nether region again.

Ugrensh's tongue worked faster now, and that made it even harder to bear. Kyjask groaned, still fairly breathless, as he tried to plead to the krigar. "Ugrensh, slow down," he asked.

Ugrensh gave another of his rumbled growls in response, continually releasing and mouthing over Kyjask's cock. The ekrate had had his share of guys, but no one had a mouth that big. And he couldn't get away.

He couldn't get away.

The ekrate gritted his teeth, trying to make sure he didn't blurt out some kind of foolish concession. He'd never been dominated this way, so completely, made to feel at the mercy of someone else. His whole groin and even the area around it was coated in saliva.

Ugrensh kept hungrily tonguing his whole groin. It was too much to take. The groan he suppressed came out, anyway, through gritted teeth. He'd never ejaculated with such force. Ugrensh's tongue was right there to twist and roll all over his cock as he continued to empty himself. He collected each pulse until Kyjask finally subsided.

It was still tough to breathe, and both that and the afterglow made him a little tired. Kyjask had been with some toughs before, but he'd never had an experience quite like that.

Ugrensh had done the whole thing standing. At this point he walked over to the bed, still holding Kyjask by the ankles. He did look a bit winded, but the rat was nonetheless impressed. He tossed Kyjask onto the bed before taking a seat at the foot of it, himself. He sighed deeply, with it evolving into a low rumble of relaxed pleasure as it ended.

The ekrate straightened up, but found it hard to do so. His muscles were jelly. Not wanting to look soft, though, he went back to conversation. "Just before dawn, right?" Kyjask clarified.

"You mean sailing time?" The large bear was back to business too. An hour before dawn. And I'm not waiting for stragglers. I'd suggest showing up three hours prior if you want to make yourself useful."

Kyjask grunted. "All right. Anything I need to bring?"

"Yourself," Ugrensh suggested. "But show up early. I'm going to be getting the crew's wages from the captain's cabin."

Kyjask moved to the edge of the bed to collect his clothing. There was no doubt about it. His shirt was ruined. "Hey. If it's in the captain's cabin, doesn't it mean that it belonged to my dad?"

Ugrensh glanced sidelong at Kyjask. "We gather the profits for our cargo and distribute them at the voyage's end. Your dad kept them in the captain's cabin."

Kyjask picked up his pants, still contemplating what Ugrensh told him. "Wait. How did you pay the crew at the end of the last voyage, when you got into port, if that's the case?"

The krigar emitted a long grumble under his breath. "When we couldn't get into the cabin, we took the money from cargo we sold at port, and I used that to divvy among the crew and jobbers."

Still keeping on the topic, the ekrate prodded, "But if you do that, wouldn't that mean that the money in the captain's cabin is separate?"

"We don't normally do that," Ugrensh rumbled dangerously. "When your old man disappeared I had no choice."

"No, I mean," Kyjask clarified, "you sell the cargo at the end, and you divvy profits among the crew. Why store money in the captain's cabin for everyone? Plus, if you pay them wages at the start of the voyage-"

"Tell you what," the krigar remarked shortly. "When you show up tonight, I'll show you the cabin and explain how things are done. Seems you'll need some schooling."

Kyjask finished putting on his trousers. "Guess so. ... I'll be around at midnight," he suggested. "I do want to talk some things over and meet the crew."

Ugrensh gave little response in return, verbally or otherwise. After waiting for a few seconds, Kyjask slipped out of the room.

Pressing Ugrensh on ship affairs probably wasn't winning him any points from someone that seemed to like obedience so much. Perhaps there were better sources of information.

Kyjask made his way back to the ship. He really didn't know where else to find other crew. It was hardly surprising to find Xicatl still keeping watch at the gangplank. Fortunately, Ledge wasn't around. In time, Kyjask might grow to appreciate him, but for now, he didn't need Ledge tailing him as he went about his business.

"Okay to come aboard?" he verified, approaching the gangplank.

Xicatl stepped aside. "Fine by me until I hear otherwise. Stay away from the captain's cabin."

This still gave him some time to check out the rest of the ship. No escort meant that he could explore it more thoroughly. The ekrate made his way below decks. He wondered if anyone else was aboard.

He received his answer as he scoured the crew deck. That was where he'd run into Secharik, earlier. It seemed the likeliest place, and sure enough, as he checked the rooms, he saw a young ekrate, certainly no more than 20 years of age, thumbing through a book as he sat upon a long, rectangular table in the middle of this small room. He was oblivious to the presence of Kyjask. That was something that he found remarkable, given the creaky boards on the ship. After all, Kyjask had hardly made an effort to be quiet.

"Readin' anything good?" he inquired.

The young ekrate, startled, nearly dropped the book. He managed to salvage his grip upon it, though he looked a little flustered. "It's just one on fishing techniques," the young one explained hastily. He wore a simple pair of black shorts along with a light grey shirt. Both looked to be in excellent shape, which was odd for the life of a sailor.

"You're a fisherman, then?"

"No." The rat closed the book and set it down beside him.

"You are a member of the ship's crew, aren't you?"

The young one averted his gaze. "Not exactly."

That was enough for Kyjask to warrant a guess. "You wouldn't happen to be Secharik's son, would you?"

The youth nodded. "I'm Keisik. Who're you?"

"Kyjask. I've just inherited this ship," he explained.

Keisik got down off the table. "Does that mean you're the new captain?"

Kyjask scratched at the back of his head. "Not exactly. I own the ship. Ugrensh is still likely slated to be the captain."

"Oh." The disappointment was evident in his voice.

"I was hoping to get to know you some, before the voyage," Kyjask explained.

"We might not be going," Keisik murmured. "Ugrensh and my dad don't get on so well. Not sure what's going to happen to us."

"You mean now that Krizzik is gone. Sounds like he made sure you'n your dad were paid well and taken care of."

Keisik smiled slightly. "I guess."

"That's the part I don't get." Kyjask entered the room and leaned against the table alongside of Keisik. "My dad paid a decent wage for both you and your dad to sail with us. I've talked with Secharik. He's a bit limited as a mage, yet my dad paid the full wages of a ship's mage. That's usually about four or five times the rate of an average sailor. Were you helping out on the ship?"

Keisik looked down. "I'm not really a sailor."

"Oh, I believe you," Kyjask assured with a smile. "But are you a mage?"

Keisik fiddled with his thumbs, and it took him a while to answer. "I'm not a mage like my dad."

The older ekrate grunted. At first he accepted the answer as it was, but after thinking about it for a few seconds, it would need some examination. "Was there something Krizzik required you for on the ship?"

The young one glanced over. "Why are you asking?"

"If I'm going to make a case for you and your dad staying, I'll need something to work with, here," he explained. "I'm trying to figure it out myself. I knew my dad well enough to know that he didn't believe in charity. He believed in doing what would help himself. Your dad wasn't too willing to talk about it, especially where it concerned you, it seems."

"That's my dad," he offered simply. "It's not exactly like I should be telling you either."

"If you both don't, I can't help." Kyjask pointed upward with one finger. "Ugrensh doesn't know why Krizzik kept you two around, does he?"

"I don't think so." Keisik sighed. "Can you keep a secret?"

Kyjask shrugged. "Depends. I don't want to promise something I can't deliver. Some things, I can keep under wraps. But if I'm going to make a case to Ugrensh, I have to have something."

"That's the problem," the young ekrate explained. "My dad is worried if Ugrensh knows, he'll betray us."

"Kid... Ugrensh is in charge of this ship. I might be the best one able to get him to change his mind on anything, given that it's my ship. He's not captain of anything without a big hunk of wood to sail." Kyjask shrugged. "So take a chance on me, if you like."

"I thought I heard talking." The deep but mild tone of Secharik cut into the room as he rounded the corner to the doorway. "Keisik, what are you doing in the surgeon's quarters?"

Keisik had been leaning, but at the sound and sight of his father, he straightened right up. "The door to the mage's quarter was locked when I checked it," his son explained.

Kyjask approached Secharik. "I was hoping to get a better idea of your situation from him," he admitted. "You two do seem to be in a bind, even if I can't figure out entirely just what the bind is."

"We have no bind," Secharik countered. "If Ugrensh doesn't want us along, we'll go our separate ways. There are a lot of ships sailing from Bafien... or perhaps we'll stay in town for a while."

Kyjask grunted. "Something tells me that's not really what you want." He realized he was going to have to offer something to foster trust, with these two. "Look. I know you don't know me. Would it help at all if I could introduce you to a trustworthy mage... the head of the academy here, in Bafien?"

Secharik took note of that at once. "You know Ketakris?"

"He sure as hell seems to know me," Kyjask shot back. "He's the one who told me I would be inheriting the ship. Teased me about it a good bit."

"He teased you about inheriting it?" Secharik echoed, mulling that over.

"My sailing's limited," Kyjask admitted. "Truth is, I could use your help in getting the crew to warm up to me. Ugrensh seems to only grudgingly accept my presence."

"Ugrensh thinks the position of captain belongs to him. I know him fairly well, Kyjask. He's not going to relinquish that."

"If the rest of the crew favors me, though," Kyjask explained, "I can ward him off."

"So you aim to be captain, then?" Secharik confirmed.

"I- I don't know," he admitted. "If I can do the job better than he can, then... yes."

"A well-qualified answer," Secharik said approvingly. "Very well." Secharik moved to close the door to ensure better privacy. "But understand, what I tell you is vital to my son's well-being. I'm placing a lot in your hands."

Kyjask nodded.

"Keisik is gifted. He has a kind of magic that doesn't manifest like it does in the rest of us. It seems more limited in scope. I mean, it's only really for one thing. But it's powerful, and valuable. ... Keisik can heal." Secharik pointed to himself. "Most other mages, myself included... we can manipulate our environment. We can bend and control the elements to do amazing things. But... we can't heal that well. It requires tapping into our own life essence, and that's limited by our own mortality. I can heal a scratch, or scry someone far away. But I can't regrow a lost limb or heal a bunch of people." Secharik glanced at Keisik. "Keisik has probably saved Krizzik's life on two occasions by healing him. He has an ability that no one has, anymore."

"Anymore?" Kyjask interjected.

"From books and lore, it seems that even 80 years or so ago, mages were able to draw life energy just... from the environment... from the very air itself. That's not possible anymore. You can only tap energy from yourself, or from someone willing. It's greatly limited the capabilities of using life energy."

Kyjask didn't really know much about the workings of magic, but he grasped the general idea. "So that makes Keisik very valuable."

"Yes. Unlike other mages, he has no grounding in... well, other magic. He can't defend himself."

"Dad!" the youth objected.

"Magically," he corrected. "He cannot protect himself. What's more, we lived in Kejarrik for most of our lives. The very nation has its finger in all things magical. If they got their hands on Keisik, his life would cease to be his own."

Kyjask understood now. His father had given Secharik and Keisik sanctuary of sorts so that he could exploit Keisik's healing ability. Still, in doing so, he'd done the two of them a service. "But you don't want Ugrensh to know about this arrangement?"

Secharik put a hand to his forehead and slowly dragged it down his face. "Ugrensh is far too likely to see what price Keisik would fetch. He cares little of our welfare, and I fear the greed would get to him."

"You don't think that Ugrensh would want to keep Keisik's rare gift for himself?"

"Not if he got the right price. The nation of Kejarrik may already be seeking Keisik. I know they'd offer a hefty sum. Ugrensh is rather full of himself. The money would appeal to him more." He slumped against a nearby wall.

"You think I wouldn't do that, though," Kyjask sought to clarify.

"I don't know what you'd do. But if Ketakris has some faith in you, that is something. Besides," he admitted wryly. "If you can't tell, I don't have a lot of options. If I start milling about with my son, he might be spotted."

"He can't be scried?" Kyjask asked.

"I have a measure against that... which, if you don't mind, I'll keep under wraps." Secharik's eyes looked to Kyjask imploringly. "Please. If you're able to keep us on this ship, I will be greatly indebted to you."

Kyjask grunted. "Well, my position on this ship is very tentative. Anything you could do to help me with the crew, to curry their favor, that would be great."

Secharik nodded. "I will do what I can. But if Ugrensh is slated to be in charge, I'm not sure how much influence I'll have."

"You'll have some." Kyjask opened the door. "Just let me talk with Ugrensh."

------------------------

Ugrensh, however, didn't show up until well after midnight. When he did, he arrived with dozens of others. He was the first up the gangplank. Kyjask made his way over just as the krigar turned to address the others about to come aboard.

"All right. I expect all of this to be in the ship's hold in an hour's time," he bellowed to the sailors, each with cargo as he stepped onto the ship. Kyjask vaguely recognized one or two as people that he would see frequenting the taverns and shoreline from time to time. Most filed onto the ship without a word.

Kyjask took a moment to eyeball a few of the members of the crew coming aboard. They seemed a mixed lot. "Are these regular members of the crew?"

Ugrensh gave only a quick sidelong glance before addressing a noklumay lugging a barrel aboard. "Don't drop that! Hurry your ass up." The kangaroo huffed and gave an acknowledging grunt before picking up the pace.

When Ugrensh didn't answer him, Kyjask tried again. "Hey. Are these-"

"I'm counting," he cut off testily. "... Most are. Eight of these are just jobbers. In it for the ride and a bit of coin, but they'll likely go on their way. They get a smaller cut."

"So you're counting the cargo?"

"The people," Ugrensh corrected. "And I really can't with you yammering at me like that. We're missing three."

"Who?"

"I've got to figure that out," he returned testily. "I've got work to do. Make yourself useful, check to make sure they're putting this stuff down right in the cargo hold. You worked the docks, you said. Surely you can handle that."

"Hold on. If this is my ship, I want to see who's on it," Kyjask challenged.

The large krigar turned slowly, inhaling sharply for a breath as he beared on the ekrate. "Let's get something straight right now. I just gave you an order." His imposing and unamused face glowered from above.

Unintimidated, the rat challenged back, "And it's my ship. So stop treating me like some dock worker."

Ugrensh snapped over at Xicatl, "Check the docks for three more workers. Make sure Rakesis isn't having any trouble with them. They'd better not be stealing any cargo."

From the bottom of the gangplank, Xicatl nodded and started off.

"I don't have time to argue with you or deal with your crap," Ugrensh snarled. " If you want to meet the crew, go fraternize. Ships don't run themselves. I run this ship."

Kyjask wanted to hammer the point home, as he resented being relegated to matters of cargo. However, following the group to the hold would give him some idea of the lot who'd just come on. He started after a fairly tall and thin varg who was carrying a crate on his back as he ambled, hunched over, toward the stairs.

"Need some help?" he offered.

The thin wolf peered up from his burden. His long muzzle broke into a flirtatious smile, lifting up both halves of his separated pencil-thin mustache as he did so. "Now I know I'd have remembered seein' your face. Must be a jobber, right?" he asked in gritty baritone.

"Nah. I own the ship here. I'm Krizzik's son," he explained as he followed the still-proceeding varg down the stairs toward the hold.

The smile widened into a grin. "No kiddin'? Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Name's Naphe. I'll have to introduce myself properly later," he remarked with a throaty chuckle.

"Hey." A voice sounded behind Kyjask. "Less talk, more walk."

Kyjask glanced behind him to see a very large laspira descending the stairs. His scales were a flinty pale purple, contrasted by his piercing narrowed yellow eyes. At his pace, he was bound to catch up to the two of them shortly. He had two tall thin crates with him, one under each arm.

"Hey there. I'm-"

"Kyjask," the purple dragon finished tersely. "I know, and right now you're the guy who's gonna start holding us up. Keep it moving."

Behind the purple laspira there were a few others carrying barrels. Those were likely the stragglers. The first one was a red laspira, much smaller than the purple one, probably a little shorter than Kyjask. The next looked to be another noklumay, though this one was larger than the one he saw earlier.

"Eyes forward!" the purple laspira instructed.

Kyjask hurried onward, closing the distance between himself and Naphe. The rest of the trip into the belly of the ship was made in silence.

The cargo hold was much roomier than the areas above the ship, with a ceiling nearly twenty feet up. It didn't feel cramped, aside from the crew and the objects now accumulating down there. Several were tying down the cargo, arranging it to be backed tightly together, counting it, or sorting it. Kyjask stepped aside and watched as the purple laspira set the crates down and started shouting instructions to the group.

"Square knots and soft shackles. Don't any of you get creative ideas to try other ones, we wanna be able to undo 'em quick when the time comes! Do not mix the barrels for the water and the rum! Keep 'em neat, separate. Why is there a trail of rum? Hey. You!" he called as he headed over. "That barrel is leaking. What'd you do to it?"

Kyjask watched as the purple one worked.

"I see you met our quartermaster," Naphe commented. "That's Rakesis. He's in charge after Ugrensh. Don't cross him, don't mess with him. He doesn't have much sense of humor. Or patience."

"It didn't leak down the stairs. Those were dry! So what'd you do to it? Did you drop it?" he demanded sharply. "Turn it upside down at least, it'll keep it from leaking out!" The sound of his voice filled the hold. The inquisition was directed at a large marmuste. He only stared back as if perplexed.

"He doesn't understand Common well," a grokit with forest-green skin offered, just behind the marmuste. "Garriv was carrying four barrels and lost his footing for a second."

"I don't care, Gedgi!" Rakesis retorted, looking down on the shorter frog, who cowed just a little. "That brute strength of his is useless if he's clumsy or doesn't know his limits. That rum is twenty silver a barrel, and at least four of it is on the floor. Hotspur, patch that barrel." Rakesis gestured at a lean fetaig, beckoning him forward. The tiger nodded, but pointed at the barrel.

"This isn't a carpentry job. Just get some sealing wax and it should be fine," Hotspur suggested stuffily.

"Fine," Rakesis agreed. "Half of you, if you're not occupied counting or tying down cargo, go topside and report to the docks. We're expecting the second shipment any minute now."

As a bunch of the crew headed up the stairs, Kyjask opted to join them.

"No goldbricking!" The bellow from Rakesis jarred everyone with its sharp tone.

Kyjask glanced back to see Rakesis closing in on the large noklumay who he'd briefly spotted a moment before. This one appeared to even be a few inches taller than the very large Rakesis.

"Ain't goldbrickin', mate. I'm tryin' to figure out how to stack them crates," the noklumay murmured casually, thumbing in the direction of the crates scattered behind him.

"Big ones on the bottom, smaller ones on the top," the laspira instructed before gritting his teeth and stepping closer.

"Ya don't say. That how ya like everything?" the noklumay asked with a ballsy grin.

Rakesis reared up to his full height, which appeared to match the noklumay's aside from his ears. They were the same height. "What's yer name, jobber?" Apparently they were far from the same rank on the ship, though.

The noklumay shrugged slightly, though he looked Rakesis right in the eye and kept the grin. "Name's Lijum."

"You're going to want ice for that eye."

Lijum blinked in confusion. "What?"

Rakesis deftly took a step backward before twisting his body sharply, and the inevitability of what was going to happen struck Lijum only an instance before the laspira's tail did. Lijum started to raise a hand to block it, but the clear *smack* sounded and nearly knocked the large noklumay over. He staggered against a nearby crate and put a hand to his eye, which was already puffing up.

Rakesis folded his arms, as if daring Lijum to retaliate.

The large noklumay reeled and appeared as if he was going to, raising his fist while the other cupped his hand over his bruised eye. Rakesis inhaled quickly and blasted a small jet of frosty breath, icing the cupped hand and freezing it to the noklumay's head. The dragon still had plenty of time to deftly step aside. Lijum's roundhouse punch missed him entirely as the laspira ducked. With a quick shove of his scaly foot, he pushed the noklumay to the ground, sprawled and slightly stunned.

That was enough for Kyjask. He descended the stairs. "You might have blinded him, and for what?" the ekrate demanded.

"For insubordination," the laspira replied coolly. "I don't tolerate it from anyone, least of all some jobber." He reoriented on the noklumay who was starting to kneel. "Stay down."

Lijum did, but cursed under his breath.

"You're not going to assault the crew to keep them in line. Not on my ship." The ekrate's glower was piercing, even from the ekrate well over two feet shorter.

"Is that so?" Rakesis huffed, a touch of frost wisping from his nostrils. "How am I to keep the men in line? Say 'please'?" Scornfully, he added, "No one likes a taskmaster, but a ship needs one. I'm not here to be friendly. I'm here to see the work is done. If you're concerned, take him to Radgild."

Kyjask blinked, thrown by the name. "Who?"

"The ship's surgeon!" Rakesis snapped.

Kyjask grunted, and reached a hand down to help Lijum up. The noklumay smacked it away with his free hand.

"Piss off. I can get up on me own." That's when Kyjask got a better view of him, aside from the eye he was covering. He was a Bafien local. The ekrate had seen him dozens of times in the pubs. Much like today, he was known for starting brawls and drinking way too much. Even now, Kyjask could smell the drink on his breath.

Lijum caught him staring, and that's when the flicker of recognition hit the kangaroo as well.

The rat stalked off, though he did check to make sure Lijum was following him out of the hold. A quick glance about from Rakesis jarred the rest of the sailors into returning to work, as most of them had stopped to watch the scene.

"Don't need you bein' a nursemaid ta me," Lijum seethed as he stamped by at the top of the stairs. The ekrate tailed him after the kangaroo went the wrong way down the narrow hall.

"The infirmary is that way," Kyjask corrected, thumbing in the opposite direction.

Lijum managed to pull his hand from his bruised eye, which looked bloated and red just under the bottom lid. "Bugger off."

Just before Lijum reached the infirmary, a head poked out of the open doorway. "Yes? Can I help you?" The slender raposa stepped into view, guardedly assessing the irritated noklumay.

"I need somethin' fer me eye," Lijum explained.

The fox smirked a bit. "Ice is all I can give to reduce the swelling. But it looks like you've already been provided-"

"Fuck this," the noklumay decided, punching the wall with his fist before heading off. Kyjask said nothing, merely letting him go.

"Definitely wise to let him cool off," the raposa agreed, eyeing Kyjask.

"You're the ship's surgeon? Radgild?"

"Yes to both. I don't believe we've met." The raposa seemed wooden, yet he had a certain smoothness to him. His shirt, trousers, sandals and gloves were all black., though he wore a blue belt with a silver buckle.

"I'm Kyjask. Krizzik's son. I'm the owner of the ship." He offered a slight smile to the doctor.

"Well, if that won't just complicate things around here," he returned with a sigh.

"You know," the ekrate muttered darkly, "most would say something like 'how do you do' or 'it's nice to meet you'."

"Yes, I'm sure they would," the raposa quipped coldly. "Ugrensh did tell me you'd be joining us. If you'll excuse me, I need to recheck my supplies. We're to sail shortly, and if I'm lacking anything I'll only have until then to take care of it. I'm sure you must have something you need to do, as well."

Irked though he was, Kyjask realized something. "You're right. I'll be going." He left Radgild behind, intent on heading above decks again.

Ugrensh was nowhere to be found. Nor were Xicatl or Ledge. This was a perfect opportunity to see about the captain's cabin. The few crew who were on deck seemed to be making their way back to the docks. They weren't paying him much mind, either.

The door to the cabin looked to be securely closed. It didn't seem to be extraordinary in any way that Kyjask could see. It did have a small, circular glass window, but it seemed oddly opaque. The ekrate couldn't see a thing through it.

Magic was hardly his specialty. What was he supposed to do, here? Nothing seemed to make sense aside from trying to open the door in the conventional sense.

"You must be Kyjask."

Both the tone of voice and the presence behind him were enough to give Kyjask a strong sense of unease. The voice was gravelly, and it was far too close to him. Had someone snuck up on him? Had he just not noticed someone's presence?

The codrayha was most certainly one that he had not yet met, on the ship, or anywhere else, for that matter. He'd have remembered this fellow. Slightly shorter than he was, this codrayha looked older. His fur was mangy, frayed along the edges of his face and scalp, and his unsettling grin revealed a front tooth missing. His posture was hunched, slightly, but it didn't make him look weak at all. No, instead, he almost looked ready to pounce.

"And I have no earthly idea who you are," Kyjask offered. That wasn't entirely true. This one had no robe- instead, he wore a tunic of neutral tan and dark red. Still, the ekrate was pretty sure this was Agar, the other mage Secharik had mentioned. That might explain how he'd managed to sneak up so easily.

"Agar," he offered simply. "And I've been watching you... discreetly, of course. It seems you're going to need help."

"Help," Kyjask repeated doubtfully. "What kind of help?"

"Why, in keeping the ship in line... and in keeping Ugrensh in check." Agar grinned again.

"And why would you be wanting to help me?" Kyjask asked, tone both blasé and cautious. "What do you get out of it?"

"Now, that's something for us to discuss. Why don't we step into your cabin and do so?"

The ekrate glanced at the door. He still hadn't really had a chance to try to open it, but Kyjask knew enough that whatever was in the cabin was valuable, dangerous, or both. Magic was valuable to everyone, but to mages, especially, it held a powerful allure.

He didn't see any way to get this done without Agar knowing or potentially interfering. At least Ugrensh wasn't aware. Who did Kyjask distrust more, though?

"Isn't Ugrensh employing you?" he challenged.

"Not exactly. Not yet, anyway. Krizzik is the one who hired me. Your father." Agar glanced over his shoulder, though Kyjask saw no one around.

"You know," the ekrate began, "no one's really told me just what happened to my father. He disappeared several weeks back."

Agar nodded before once again peering over his shoulder.

"Disappeared isn't dead. Hate to point out the obvious," Kyjask declared.

"It is if you're at sea and the only ship around, and you fall overboard with a huge, gaping wound," the codrayha contended.

Now it was coming out... if it was true. "And just what happened that could have led up to such a tragedy?"

Agar waved it away. "Oh, it's not my place to say. Ship politics," he muttered cryptically.

"But you were there, when it happened?"

There was a pause before Agar answered. "I was on the ship, and I helped in the search when he fell overboard."

Something wasn't sitting right. "You weren't there when he fell overboard?" Kyjask pushed.

"I was on the ship," he repeated.

"Did you see him fall overboard?" the ekrate pressed.

"Yes," Agar admitted grudgingly. "I did."

"So you saw what happened?"

"Some creatures attacked him," Agar replied, shortly and with a flare of annoyance. "But I was pretty far off, and the creatures didn't stay."

Kyjask nodded, thinking about that. "... How do you know he was wounded, if you were so far off, then?"

"What?" Agar asked. "The blood on the deck."

"Couldn't that have come from the creatures?" the son asked.

"I- it doesn't matter," Agar remarked. "We looked around. I even delved the sea. Krizzik never surfaced after falling over, and I didn't see any sign of him."

"That's still not enough to declare that he's dead," Kyjask argued.

"If you don't want to believe your father's dead, that's your business, and I get it," Agar remarked, glancing once more over his shoulder. "But let's deal in the here and now. Ugrensh is in charge. So let's find somewhere nice and private, where no one can reach us. We'll discuss it."

Kyjask shook his head. "We can discuss details here. I don't trust you in there."

"I really don't have time for this," Agar seethed. "Kyjask, I need you to open the door so I can see if an item of your father's is still present. It may be vital to finding out what happened to him. You do want to know, don't you?" the codrayha pressed.

Kyjask didn't have time to really press the issue further, however, as Ugrensh had just come up the gangplank.

It took Agar a few seconds, but he figured it out from Kyjask's gaze. He spun about quickly. "Captain Ugrensh!" he greeted a bit too hastily.

The krigar regarded the two of them with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Kyjask, Xicatl had informed me that he told you to stay away from the captain's cabin. I trust he wasn't lying to me." His steely gaze moved to Agar, who shied away from it.

"I'm inspecting my ship, and the captain's cabin is part of it," Kyjask pushed back defensively. "Speaking of which, there are a few things I need to talk to you about."

That eyebrow of his arched even higher. "Such as?" he asked a bit coldly.

"Your taskmaster Rakesis... let's start with him. One of the jobbers was mouthing off, and he used his tail to lash him good. It nearly cost the jobber his eye." If there was one thing that was true, it was that Kyjask often was unafraid to speak his mind, regardless of who he was talking to, or how much it may bother them.

"Rakesis was taskmaster for both myself and your father before me," Ugrensh explained. "He's very good at what he does, and he's not one for nonsense or mouthing off. He does a good job. Anything else?"

Undeterred, the ekrate pressed, "hey, I know the jobber, all right? I've dealt with him enough times down at the docks. Rakesis almost blinded him. I don't care how good he is."

"What are you, his mommy?" Ugrensh derided sarcastically. "I'm in charge of the crew. Rakesis is fine. Is there anything else?"

"Matter of fact," Kyjask picked up, "we need to talk about Secharik and Keisik. I intend to keep Secharik on as the ship's mage, and that means we keep his son as well."

That immediately caught Agar's attention, and he scowled. "The title of ship's mage is mine, whelp," he snapped, perhaps a bit too fervently, but it was out there.

"And I'm the one who makes decisions on the crew," Ugrensh rumbled. "Let me tell you something. Secharik can barely swish a bucket of water around. I'm not going to deem him as a ship's mage, especially not when we're in danger at sea and we might need magic to save our ass. Agar's our mage. I'm pretty sure your father was on the way to replacing Secharik as it was."

"Why not keep them both on as ship's mages?" he suggested.

"Because they're too damned expensive. Not to mention ships don't exactly have an abundance of room. When we set sail in two hours, he's going to be left at the docks, with his kid," he pronounced with a growl.

"No."

The word cut through the air of the ship like the sharpest knife, and no one took notice of it more than Ugrensh.

"I'm not sure how I'm not making myself clear, here," he remarked gruffly as he leaned over. Agar took a step away almost reflexively.

"Let me explain. You say the ship's sailing without him, but you seem to keep forgetting. It's my ship. He's going with us. Otherwise my ship doesn't leave the harbor." Kyjask met the krigar's eyes.

The krigar inhaled sharply, no doubt trying to keep his patience. "I'm going to overlook the audacity just long enough to humor you by asking. Why?"

"He's been a part of this crew for years, and I'm led to understand that Krizzik employed him as an advisor. He still knows magic, and his advice will be useful."

"I'm not sure what tripe he told you, boy. I was the one who advised Krizzik. All Secharik ever did was protest and whine." Ugrensh began to pace in front of Kyjask. "I'm not having him on the ship being paid for that."

"Don't tell me you're threatened by him," Kyjask mocked.

Ugrensh's very body language stiffened, even as he paced, as if something was constricting his movement. "No, I'm not," he remarked simply.

"So pay him a sailor's wage," Kyjask suggested.

"Sailors work for their money. Not to mention there's still the issue of his son."

"Free passage, then," Kyjask urged.

"You seem to be missing the point here," Ugrensh remarked with a twisted grin. "I already have one passenger here. You. I'm not making it three."

"Have you forgotten that I intend to work?" Kyjask suggested. "They're coming with us. So name your condition for it."

"Your cabin," the krigar replied evenly, almost instantly.

"The captain's cabin? The one you're trying to keep me out of?"

"Exactly, The captain's cabin." Ugrensh grinned.

"It's supposed to be enchanted... and you can't get in, I've been told. There's still the possibility that I can. If I can, that mean I'm the captain?" he challenged.

"The hell it does!" Ugrensh snapped, and for a brief second, Kyjask realized that he was pushing too hard. The krigar was irate at the very notion, but he pulled his anger back. "I'll tell you what. Open the captain's cabin. It stays open and I use it. That's going to be the cost of Secharik staying on the ship."

Kyjask considered that for a moment. "What about what's inside the cabin? Who does it belong to?"

"The captain, obviously."

"Yeah, but that was my father, and he left me the ship. The cabin is part of the ship."

"Tell you what," Ugrensh offered. "Let's go through it on a case by case basis. Some of it will go to you, some of it will go to me."

"We could both use the cabin. Then we wouldn't have to divvy it up." Kyjask grinned up at Ugrensh.

Ugrensh grunted. "We'll see. The loading is going well, and I've got Xicatl and a few others overseeing the last of the transfer. Try and open it."

"Uh, captain," Agar interjected. "Could I come in as well? I was hoping to inspect any magical items that may be in there."

"Another time," the krigar dismissed. "This is for me and Kyjask here to sort out."

Rebuffed, Agar nodded, and slunk away.

"You trust that guy?" Kyjask checked.

"I trust his ability to do magic and to not cross me unless he wants a bolt in his back. Magic can only do so much, even with a good mage."

A stream of sailors started up the gangplank, lugging the remainder of the cargo. Kyjask's mind was on the door. How did it even work? He tried the direct approach, reaching out to touch the doorknob. When he did, it glowed, its luminescence enveloping his hand rather than scattering in every direction. Ugrensh loomed overhead, but said nothing as the light crept around Kyjask's hand, both flesh and fur alike.

As if in recognition, there was an audible click from the door, even though nothing had moved or changed, to Kyjask's eye. The warm, bright aura vanished. Now, when Kyjask tried to turn the handle, it gave way. He pushed it inward.

As Kyjask started to open the door, Ugrensh turned to Agar. "I'm sure you have things to do." Agar didn't seem happy, but he took the hint, casting a sidelong glance and scowl in their direction.

The cabin was dark; Kyjask couldn't see much from the imposing moonlight he'd just let in. He turned toward Ugrensh. The krigar lit a match. Kyjask couldn't tell if it was the sulfur variety or some magically induced one, but the light looked natural enough. The krigar ushered him into the room, and the moonlight from the outside disappeared as the massive krigar squeezed his way through the 10 foot high doorway. What was ample room for most others was a tight fit for him. Ugrensh closed the door.

"Doesn't that lock us in?" Kyjask questioned.

"The spell only works from the outside when you try to get in. Probably for the best, or I'm sure someone would have starved or died in here by now." Ugrensh grunted. He lit a nearby lantern before hanging it back up, high above.

The cabin was fairly large. Ugrensh was able to stand up without hitting head. Even then, there was space above his head. What was more, it looked comfortable. Most of the other rooms on the ship had shabbier furnishings of cozy design. This one contrasted it entirely, with ample space to walk about and larger objects. There was a large nook of the room that housed a large, heavy desk, along with two chairs, one behind the desk, the other facing it. The wooden chairs were both enormous, heavy monstrosities, but they looked rustic in design. A wall partitioned the room halfway, making that little corner of the room feel a little cozier. The other half of it housed a large, rounded basin as well as a few mirrors.

Kyjask moved farther in, peering about as he did so. On the far side, away from the partitioned half of the room, the most eyecatching thing was the bed. It was larger than most beds he'd seen in the inns and taverns. The wood matched the rustic design of the chairs. The mattresses were very thick, so much so that Kyjask realized he would actually have to climb into bed. It was placed against the wall between two nightstands.

"Nice bed, huh?" Ugrensh commented mildly as he headed over to the nook with the desk. He lit another lantern, hanging it more in the center of the room, high overhead.

"The furniture in here's so big," the ekrate observed. "No wonder why you want dibs on this place. This was my father's cabin, wasn't it?"

"It's part of why I wanted you to see it." Ugrensh moved one of the chairs to the side, then started to pull the hefty desk out of the nook. "This room was designed so that even I could be comfortable in it. Krizzik always told me that I'd be the one to inherit this place, if anything happened to him." The desk reverberated across the plank floor as Ugrensh continued to pull it out.

"It's impressive. But wasn't a lot of this stuff too big for him?" Kyjask asked,

"When's the last time you saw him?" Ugrensh checked. He circled around the desk and started to push it into the corner, against the door that the two'd come in.

"About two, three years ago, I think. What're you doing?"

"Just rearranging the furniture," Ugrensh replied vaguely. "In the last few years, your father's gotten a hold of several magical items. One of them makes him... more formidable. Larger. He had the room adjusted when that happened."

Kyjask grunted in acknowledgement. "I thought you were rearranging the furniture?"

"I was," Ugrensh stated, "but I'm finished now." He leaned against the desk now that it rested in the way of the door.

"It's not gonna stay there, is it? It's blocking the door," Kyjask observed blindly.

"You catch on slowly," Ugrensh remarked with a grin. "The desk's hard for someone your size to move. So, it's you and me for a bit." He grew morbidly serious. "I think it's time we had a chat."

Kyjask had come onto this ship with a dagger, much as he did everywhere he went. Even so, no dagger was going to stop Ugrensh. He'd allowed himself to be trapped. He did his best to look unphased, but he wondered if the worry was showing, at all. "You know I'm happy to chat with you."

"I thought I'd made it clear how this was going to work, here. You own the ship, but really, you're a passenger that I'm allowing aboard. I'm even willing to work with you on Secharik and his kid, as long as they cause me no trouble. Even if they do, I know I can handle them." Ugrensh chuckled darkly. He paused. "But then, you start going on about my quartermaster being a brute. You threaten not to let the ship sail. Out there, no less, where others overhear. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to undermine my authority." He started to approach, ominously.

The room was large, but he was still trapped. Reflexively, Kyjask went for the dagger at his belt. "Easy now," he cautioned. "When I see issues here that concern me, I'm not going to keep silent." He'd let his guard down, but he had it back up now... what little good it did him.

"Except you already agreed to. We talked about this at the inn. You're not the captain; you're not even an officer." Ugrensh lumbered toward him.

Not wanting to back into the bed, the ekrate angled himself so that he could maneuver around it. He was going to run out of room very quickly. "What do you want from me?" Kyjask demanded more weakly than he'd have liked.

"See, that's the thing," Ugrensh remarked with a nasty grin. "Words didn't seem to get the point across. Maybe being trapped in here's going to do it."

The large bear had closed the distance, and Kyjask knew he was running out of room. When Ugrensh reached a hand out, Kyjask brandished the dagger and arced a swipe in front of him meant to buy some distance. Ugrensh, however, backhanded Kyjask's wrist, sending the dagger flying until it thunked into the wall, clattering to the ground.

The shock of it all caused him to delay for a second, and it was a second too long. The krigar never looked as large to Kyjask as he did, right then. Ugrensh grabbed him at the shoulders, pinning his arms for the most part, before lifting him into the air.

"What're you gonna do? You can't kill me," he protested.

Ugrensh chuckled. "Your continuing denial of reality is amusing. I think you'll find that I can. More the question, though, is will I?" He squeezed Kyjask tightly to emphasize the point.

"If you're doing this so I turn over the ship-" Kyjask began, before Ugrensh wrenched him up, face to face, nose to nose.

"Let's get this straight. The ship is mine already. You can't beg or bargain with it. No one's gonna take it away from me." Ugrensh's breath was hot on his face. "The only question is what I'm gonna do with you. That's another thing that's not in your control. Don't you get it?" The grin took on a chilling nature as it broadened. "Your life's in my hands."

"You think the crew's not gonna hear it if I shout? They're not gonna approve of this," the ekrate guessed.

"The room is soundproofed. There's a lot on this room that make it impenetrable. Can't say the same goes for you."

The ekrate didn't doubt it. What could he appeal to at this point? "I really am attracted to guys like you," he reminded.

The krigar said nothing for a moment, but he adjusted his grip so that Kyjask was held fast from one meaty hand. The other, meanwhile, groped at his groin, feeling for his belt. He dared say nothing, and just allowed the krigar to undo the rope that served to hold his trousers up. Unfastened, they were easy enough to tug from Kyjask's body, which the bear did before casting them aside.

"And that is the use I can picture, for you." He set Kyjask down on the ground.

He was unsure of what to do. The dagger was on the far side of the bed, and his eyes cast about for its exact location.

What was most disturbing of all, in a way, was that Ugrensh had just set him down. Ugrensh seemed aware of what he was doing. Even so, he just grinned, taking the moment to remove his own jerkin first, then his trousers. "Go on. I dare you," he mockingly urged.

With that and his clear arousal, it was clear enough where he was going for this. The context was entirely different from back at the hotel. His enormity was inviting, then. Now he seemed all the larger for it, and Kyjask felt all the more helpless. What did he want? Could he even offer it?

He wanted obedience.

Kyjask could give it. The obedience the large krigar wanted, though, wasn't just for sex.

"Let's discuss this," Kyjask tried meekly.

"Talking's not gonna tell me what I need to know," Ugrensh answered gutterally. He approached unhurriedly, a complete mismatch to Kyjask's fervently racing mind.

There was no guarantee that Ugrensh wouldn't kill him... and that was the point. He was trapped. Completely. There was no way out of this. As Ugrensh approached, he rather retreated within himself. His best chance was to take it.

Ugrensh must have noticed the change. His eyes widened as did his grin. "Good. That's more like it."

It made it no less gutwrenching when Ugrensh picked him up by his shirt again, only to lift him a few inches before tossing him backward onto the hard wooden floor.

Everything was a bit fuzzy. He hadn't hit his head or anything. Everything just felt surreal. Kyjask started to prop himself up with his hands, but before he could sit up, a large foot planted itself right on top of his sternum, pinning him to the ground. Ugrensh was putting some weight into it too, not so much as to crush him, which he could surely do, but there was no way he could possibly get up.

"Where do you think you're goin?" he asked, leering down.

The next thing he knew, Kyjask's ankles were gripped tightly, one in each of Ugrensh's large hands. The large bear took his foot off the rat's chest just so that he could finish doubling him backward, his lower half entirely in the air now. He looked up at the larger krigar who leaned forward to keep him doubled over.

Why he even tried to get up was beyond him. He couldn't even budge. His arms were free, but what good could it do, really? Ugrensh loomed over him, still high above, but his head was just above Kyjask's own.

That's when he first felt Ugrensh's cock contact his opening. The realization that there'd been no lubrication, stretching, or stimulation of any kind hit him just as quickly, and he couldn't help but flail, trying to get up, to turn over, anything. That didn't last long as he realized he was stuck there, and could only look up at Ugrensh's piercing, furrowed stare above him.

Then he pushed in. It wasn't merciless, but nor was it kind. What physical resistance the rat's unprepared anus could offer was quickly overruled. The tip of the head of his cock made its way in, but once it did, the rest followed readily and much quicker, pushing him open despite any conscious or unconscious attempt to keep him out. Ugrensh watched as Kyjask struggled in discomfort, uttering a slight sound that he then muted. He tried not to react, but from Ugrensh's eager and captivated grin, he was failing miserably. The depth was only one problem. Ugrensh was thick, and the sudden intrusion demanded entry against the circumference of Kyjask's bowel. He finally realized he was wincing, trying to get through the discomfort. His anus wasn't tearing... it was just being muscled out, in all directions, and it ached fiercely with the sudden onslaught.

Ugrensh held him firmly even as the smaller ekrate squirmed in place. "Go on, struggle," he rumbled, clearly enjoying it.

Kyjask found himself in a place where he'd not imagined himself. What was weighing down on him, aside from the krigar himself, was that he'd gotten himself into this situation. The rape wasn't what bothered him. He was tough enough to get through something like that. No, what bothered him was the fact that Ugrensh really could kill him if he wanted to. The thought was more than enough to keep his heart racing. The adrenaline is what made it hard to stay still, to not struggle or fidget.

Fully penetrated, Kyjask could do nothing but watch as Ugrensh pulled back somewhat, and each push of his dick was a forceful reminder that Kyjask's body wasn't ready or accepting of this. His sphincter's muscle tried to close up only to be forced right back open. It pulsed with ache and muddled, pleasurable stimulation; the mix of the two felt too much to bear, and yet there was no chance of it easing up anytime soon.That was something that Ugrensh was really relishing, growling and huffing as he got going.

The force of each thrust made it tough for Kyjask not to hit his head on the wooden floor. Ugrensh was giving no thought to his comfort... and yet Kyjask couldn't wonder if he could make this a hell of a lot more brutal. It was a passing thought interrupted by the violent girth of Ugrensh's cock delving into him, over and over.

That was when the krigar started really thrusting, and Kyjask had to cradle his arms behind his head just to prevent it from thunking into the floor. Each returning invasion compressed and folded him.

Through it all, there was the resonance of pleasure from being fucked, but it was continuously interrupted and beaten about. Even so, Kyjask had been aware he was completely erect, almost as if his cock itself was just trying to find some way out of that compression. Kyjask winced and tried to think of something- anything- that would end this assault.

He wanted obedience.

Kyjask knew, but he just couldn't give it. To submit to this- but he ached, and Ugrensh was just getting started.

The warm, wet sensation of Ugrensh's tongue took him out of the pained but frantic daze, as the krigar had taken to licking his fleshy upturned feet. He would have enjoyed it far more if he wasn't trying to cope with the bear's brutal cock, which by now was slamming into his prostate at a jarring and agonizing force.

"Ugrensh, stop-" he protested.

The krigar leaned down so that his nose was against Kyjask's, right in his face. The thrusting didn't abate as he bathed Kyjask in his hot breath, a bit of saliva trickling out of his mouth and beading on Kyjask's chest. He said nothing, though, with those large, deadset eyes just staring at the rat.

"Listen-" he tried again.

"You gettin' a sense now of your position on this ship?" the krigar demanded, right into his face. The krigar opened his maw, let his tongue hang out a bit, and then started paintbrushing it slowly up Kyjask's chin. Kyjask shuddered visibly at the touch.

"It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't so brutal," Kyjask half-conceded.

Ugrensh eased up a little so that the thrusts weren't nearly as likely to bruise his head. Already Kyjask could feel the easier time on his body.

"I could give that to you," Ugrensh admitted, each warm breath right against his face. "I actually do like ekrate." The grips on Kyjask's ankles tightened. "That's the thing. I could make this a good time for you. I could make it a rough time for you. Or I could just up and kill you." Ugrensh chuckled deeply, and Kyjask actually felt the deep resonance of each pulse of his laughter.

Kyjask couldn't wonder if he was considering it because he was so attracted to Ugrensh, or because he feared for his own life. "I get it," Kyjask offered. "We do things your way."

Ugrensh grunted. The ekrate felt the grip on his ankles released, and the invasive ache of trying to keep Ugrensh's thick cock out of his unprepared ass started to relent as the krigar withdrew. The krigar stood up, panting somewhat. He let out a long grunt as he sized up the ekrate on the ground. Kyjask said nothing, not wanting to ruin whatever hope of a chance he had.

"Get up."

Kyjask winced a little as he sat up, then tried to get to his feet. His back and shoulders ached, to say nothing about his insides.

"Eyes up here."

Kyjask realized he'd been staring at Ugrensh's cock, almost as if trying to figure out if it had done any damage to him beyond the aching he felt. At the command, though, Kyjask cast his eyes upward, past the large belly of the krigar, up to those piercing eyes again and that jutting muzzle with the thick, bristly mustache.

"My way, or else. I eat guys like you for breakfast. And just so you don't doubt that...." Ugrensh gripped Kyjask by his arms, near the ekrate's shoulders, pinning them to his body as he started to lift him from the ground. It took a few seconds to reach full realization as Ugrensh lifted him higher off the ground. The bear was in no hurry, though, enjoying the slowed pace, watching for Kyjask's reaction.

His eyes widened as Ugrensh opened his jaws. Kyjask was a mixture of horrified and fascinated by the sudden turn. No. He wasn't really going to do that. No-

"No! Ugrensh!"

The krigar stopped just short of sticking Kyjask into his maw, but he kept his jaws open. a drop of saliva fell into the fur on his nose. That was how close he was.

"Speak." The intonation of the word had caused Ugrensh's jaws to touch upon his nose ever so briefly before they opened up again.

Where to go with it? He let himself babble, not sure what else to do? "I think this is incredibly...." He stared into the maw of the large bear, lost for words for a second, as he tried to recompose himself. It just wasn't coming. He was panicked, he was turned on, he was fascinated, and he was trying to just figure out a way to prevent his death. He almost wanted it, but he didn't want the inevitable consequence. How would he explain that to a psychopathic krigar? Did he explain it? "You're so sexy, and I just wanna live and give ya whatever ya want."

Ugrensh pulled him back a little bit, closing his jaws, as he appraised Kyjask a bit incredulously. He grinned.

"I want a full stomach."

This time there was no halt as Ugrensh opened his jaws, and Kyjask had little time for a protest before it became muffled. His chin and neck became coated with saliva, only to be supplemented with the lesser amounts that came from the krigar closing his jaws around his shoulders. Lines of sharp teeth were palpably on either side of him. Ugrensh's uvula danced around on his nose, giving him a clear indication just how far back he'd gone.

Kyjask wriggled, alarm hitting him, but his arms were held fast, and only his legs could kick and his tail thrash freely. Ugrensh responded by lifting his tongue to lick at the neck and chin of the ekrate, dampening him further.

The rat searched around for anything at all to help him, and his feet, casting about, found the head of Ugrensh's slicked up cock. Ugrensh uttered a grunt, followed by a lengthened groan, the wind of which Kyjask felt entirely. That may be his only chance. He gripped the head and upper shaft by his feet, tentatively maintaining a loose grip as he started maneuvering them about, trying to rub and stimulate the krigar. The throaty series of groans that followed gave Kyjask an idea he was making an impact, even if he wasn't getting words for it.

His tongue swooped up to the side a bit, effectively jamming Kyjask against the clenched teeth on the far side while soaking him further. The tongue was getting more active, and the groaning was becoming more vocal. He was getting somewhere... he hoped. A deep grunt followed.

Kyjask felt an eruption of warmth and stickiness coating one foot, then the other. Ugrensh was ejaculating, right onto his feet. The feel of it caused Kyjask's own cock to throb, just savoring it, wishing it was enough.

Ugrensh pushed him back just a bit more. Then, in an influx of muscle motion, the bottom seemed to give out from under Kyjask, and he felt a strong pull downward. Wet flesh met his nose at each side, enveloping it, pulling, before a second wave seemed to grip at the back of his head. What glimmer of light had been before was shut out now, and while he could have moved his head before, now he couldn't. The epiglottis clasped just below Kyjask's chin.

His head was in Ugrensh's throat. The krigar had actually swallowed his head. His chest had been stuffed into the bear's jaws, and it found the same confined space his shoulders had. Kyjask's feet could no longer grip Ugrensh's cock, but that bargaining chip had been spent to no avail.

He couldn't get out. Holy shit, his head was in Ugrensh's throat and he couldn't get out! That didn't stop him from a storm of kicking, lasting only a handful of meaningless seconds before those hands gripped his ankles, much like they did before. Kyjask could feel the lifting of his body, realizing that Ugrensh was inclining his head back as he pulled his legs upward.

Ugrensh swallowed again. The epiglottis lifted up long enough for the muscles of the esophagus to pull on Kyjask's body, straining under such a large object. Kyjask could feel the ripples as Ugrensh swallowed, again and again, trying to get him down, with little progress. Then, in wet, tight casing, the epiglottis managed to wrap itself past Kyjask's shoulders. Now the swallows were pulling him downward, gradually, but Ugrensh kept swallowing, bringing wave after wave of peristalsis.

The krigar's jaws closed on Kyjask's thighs, holding them tightly in place. Oxygen was starting to become scarcer, and the rat's attempts to calm himself were rebuffed by reality. Of course he was panicked.

Ugrensh's tongue started undulating against his cock. Kyjask couldn't ignore the good sensation, even mixed up in the many others. No. He wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction.

This huge, powerful bear who'd dominated him so completely was licking his cock. He could feel the buildup. He couldn't halt it.

Kyjask's toes went wildly spastic for a few seconds before splaying, their movement greatly slowed, but gripping tightly to his own feet a few times. He was basting that tongue with his jizz, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it.

He surrendered to it. Kyjask accepted his fate. The bigger always won. His struggles ceased.

He felt himself being pulled upward. At first he thought it was his wishful mind playing a trick on him. But air returned to greet his saliva-coated underbelly and sides, then his chest, and finally, he could feel free space surround his head instead, as Ugrensh pulled him from his mouth, where gravity took to pulling him upside down as Kyjask gasped desperately for air, coughing a few times as well.

His head touched the ground then the back of his neck, and soon after that Ugrensh just dropped him to clatter to the ground.

"Fortunately for you I've got other ways to fill my stomach, and it's not breakfast yet. Stay in here as long as you like. Ship sails in an hour or so." Ugrensh headed for the door, and he started dragging the large desk away.

"Tell you what," he continued. "You can continue to claim the ship's yours. In fact, it's probably better that you do. But I'm not gonna hear a word of backtalk, out there. Hell, for allowing Secharik and his kid continued passage, we can even share this room. But when we're in here, just like out there, I'm in charge."

Kyjask looked up, quite tired, at the departing krigar, and he watched the door shut behind him. What had just happened?

He'd almost met his end. Really, he could have met his end, and no act of his saved him. ... Did it? The fact was, Ugrensh could have killed him. Eaten him. But he didn't. He'd just been most of the way to that bear's stomach.

Yet he was alive. He should be grateful, right? He got to be with a big, tough guy like Ugrensh, and it sounded like he'd keep doing so. All it cost him was his free will and the ability to speak his mind.

As the immediate danger subsided and Kyjask thought about it, he realized again that he'd been intimidated. What Ugrensh had just done was no different than holding a crossbow to him.

He sat up. Yes. He'd made it under duress. Ugrensh did this to him in private for a reason. When it came down to physical power, Ugrensh had him undone. But Kyjask knew one thing. When he'd inherited this ship, it was his golden egg, his life-changing windfall. He wasn't about to settle for being the quiet voice in the corner for the rest of his life.

He stood up. He was definitely two things: soaked and sore. The latter is more what bothered him. One thing definitely couldn't continue. Getting pounded like that would only decimate his body. He wasn't built to take it.

So what now? If he wasn't going to merely submit to Ugrensh, what could he do? His only answer was to take him on, out there, where Ugrensh was at least held to the scrutiny of the other crew. He was a new leader on this ship, and from what Secharik had told him, he was being much more tight-fisted and a despot than Krizzik had. He didn't seem to listen to anyone else... and he was Krizzik's son, who'd inherited this ship.

Yes, he had to take Ugrensh on, verbally, out there. But this was crazy. He'd just barely survived, and now he was going to challenge Ugrensh, again? The very thing that'd gotten him into this situation?

He could just bail out on the whole endeavor... but that felt worse than anything else.

No, Ugrensh had just tried to break his will, and it would only happen if he let the bear do it.

He wouldn't break so easily.

He used an old coat, likely his father's, to dry off as best he could. He hadn't really had a chance to look around here. Didn't Ugrensh say money was in here? Like it or not, the krigar had no way in here, but he did. He cast about the room. The desk turned up nothing interesting or useful for anything other than reading or writing. He found some clothing, including a shirt, in a wardrobe in the corner. The nightstands, however, did contain several large bags of coins, mostly gold. Kyjask hardly had time to count through them, but there had to be thousands of them among the four bags total.

Ugrensh was so convinced that he'd taken the fight out of the rat, wasn't he? He left the gold right in there. He'd expected to share the room. How did that work, exactly? Was he expecting to order Kyjask to open the door and do what he wanted like a pet upon a leash? Thinking about it irritated him. His anger built.

Kyjask dressed, now, still with that slight smell like he'd been in Ugrensh's mouth, and still with his fur mussed and matted a little bit from the experience. He put on a deep purple shirt that rivaled the faded one he'd lost earlier that night. The bag of gold he selected was fairly heavy, so much so that needed two hands most of the time, but he managed to get it to the door all right. He peered out.

It'd probably been about twenty or so minutes since Ugrensh's and his encounter. Peering out from the door, he saw now that most, if not all, seemed to be gathering on the deck, with Ugrensh and Rakesis about to speak with them. This was a perfect time. He headed out with the large bag of coins.

"-first stop is going to be at the port of Batro. If you jobbers like, you can get paid and be on your way there. We'll be continuing onto Secarsi, and we may be stopping at Vispai, port yet to be determined. Depends on what we find for trading." Ugrensh stopped talking, as he noticed Kyjask approaching with the bag of coins. "Hey. Kyjask. What're you doing?"

"You told me at the tavern that you were planning to divvy this money among the crew," the ekrate responded evenly. "That is what you said, right?"

The crew looked eagerly back and forth from the money to Ugrensh.

"I think you misinterpreted what I said," the bear uttered darkly. "I told you that I'd paid the crew from the money we made selling cargo in Bafien. That money, there, belongs to the captain. Which is me."

Kyjask shrugged, what little he was able with the heavy bag. "I must have. Didn't you say you needed to get the crew's wages from the captain's cabin? You do still need to pay these folks, right?"

"Yeah, we ain't been paid yet," Lijum shouted, still with that shiner right above his eye.

"You get paid at the end of the voyage," Ugrensh thundered darkly. "I don't want you taking off with money before you've done the job. Kyjask, a word?" he demanded more than asked, starting to step away from the group.

"But you said that you sell the cargo to get the funds. So why would you need this money now?" Kyjask pressed.

"Kyjask, are you forgetting the conversation we had a little while ago?" the bear challenged through gritted teeth.

"Not at all," he admitted. "I'm trying to follow through on what you were saying at the inn. This is found money, of a sort, left by my father. I was thinking we could divvy it among the crew. You said you need it for the crew's wages."

A few cheers went up, but they were silenced by looks from Rakesis and Ugrensh.

"You... misunderstood," Ugrensh repeated, clearly furious now. "It's my money."

"But you said crew's wages."

"I'll decide when and if I give them out!" he yawped. "Just because you're Krizzik's son, you think it entitles you to-"

"Krizzik's money? Yes."

"It's the money meant for running this ship!"

"The one I own, in the cabin only I can get to." He was laying it all out. "You and I know damned well, Ugrensh, that what happened back there was only to cow me into submission."

Ugrensh advanced, sneering. "And yet you're still not saying moo."

Kyjask set the bag down, realizing it was going to slow him. "Fact is, it's mine. You say you're the captain, but maybe we should let the crew decide, just like you said."

Pure fury shone in Ugrensh's eyes now. "I said nothing of the sort!"

"Don't you remember anything at the inn?" Kyjask questioned with mock-innocence. "I hear mages have truth spells, if it would help."

Ugrensh kept closing on Kyjask, passing the bag of gold. "This is what I get for going easy on you!"

Kyjask hadn't wanted to run, already worrying that just backing up would make him look weak. Ugrensh lifted him up by his new shirt.

"Ugrensh," a tall, slender ekrate suggested, "we should at least discuss the leadership. This is our first journey out of port since Krizzik-"

"I'm in charge, Dakkis! I've been on this crew 17 years and first mate for most of that time. I run this ship."

"You shorted us when we pulled into port, said we had to conserve money because you couldn't get at the gold locked away," Dakkis pointed out. "You do owe us wages."

"And I'll pay them when we get to Batro. Our cargo's fixing for a nice profit," Ugrensh assured vaguely.

"Ugrensh-" Secharik piped up.

"Captain," he corrected darkly, turning to look at Secharik.

"If I may, Ugrensh, Krizzik left the ship to his son. Like it or not, it's his. Perhaps we should-" the ekrate began, but he was cut off by Ugrensh's raised voice.

"SHUT UP. You wanna follow him? He's not a sailor. He's never been with us, all this time, and I have for 17 years. He's not one of us!"

"He's the captain's son," Dakkis reminded.

"Krizzik is gone! This boy doesn't know the first thing about running a ship! He's already tearing this crew apart," the krigar pronounced.

"I'm 28... and you're the one doing that," Kyjask retorted.

Ugrensh turned back to Kyjask. His face was contorted with frustration and rage. He gripped the ekrate with both hands. "You all wanna follow him?" Ugrensh lumbered to the port side of the ship.

Kyjask remembered his head being thunked into the rail, and after that, everything was hazy. He was soaked... he could tell that much. He couldn't breathe. Everything faded.

----------------------------

How much time had passed, he could not say. He was lying down, being smacked in the face lightly by someone. He opened his eyes.

"Yeah, he's come to."

"Is he all right?"

"He was knocked cold when Ugrensh put his head into the rail, then flung into the water. What do you think?"

"Oh, shut up. Move aside."

Dakkis and Secharik stood above him. Secharik breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Keisik? Keisik, where are- hey! I told you not to wander off!" He started away.

Dakkis turned to others that had gathered. "Tell everyone to meet at the Salty Breeze, in the gathering room."

"The tavern's closed this time of night," another answered.

"I know the owner. Use this key. Tell him we're using the inn. He'll be sleeping in the room behind the bar."

Kyjask tried to sit up, and the pain resonated all the more when he did.

"No sudden movements," a voice cautioned. It was the surgeon from the ship. Kyjask remembered him as well. The raposa placed a finger right on the knotted lump above his right temple.

"Oww. Could you not do that?" Kyjask snapped testily.

"Help me bring him to the inn. Take that side."

Kyjask felt himself being lifted. His vision was a bit cloudy, but even so, he piped up. "Lemme be, I can get up on my own. I can walk."

"It's more the falling down flat on your face I'm worried about," Radgild assured. The raposa surgeon explained, "you've suffered a bad concussion."

"Just let us carry you," Dakkis suggested.

Kyjask stopped protesting... but he couldn't help but wonder as they took him up in a two-person arm carry. "What'd I miss?" he asked tentatively.

"Well," Dakkis explained, "with a bag full of gold on deck and a crew in total anarchy, you missed a mixture of crew sticking up for you against Ugrensh, crew trying to grab for money, and Ugrensh and a group loyal to him put down what he called a mutiny... even if I think he has that backwards."

"So why aren't we going to the ship?" Kyjask asked.

"Because the ship has sailed," Radgild replied curtly. "Ugrensh had his armed thugs see most of the crew off. Just nine of 'em, including Ugrensh."

"Nine?" Kyjask asked as they started to approach the tavern. "Nine can't sail a ship, can they?"

"Not well," Dakkis replied. "But Ugrensh and Rakesis have quite a bit of muscle to them. They're two or three men apiece on their own for the jobs requiring strength. They'll struggle, but they'll manage."

"The jobbers didn't stay?" Kyjask asked, figuring they'd have no issues with loyalty either way.

"After hearing me talk about not being paid, all the jobbers left. Probably some of them with some gold from that sack. We likely won't see that lot again," Dakkis informed.

"Oy. If you weren't carryin' the other ekrate I'd clock ya one on that."

Kyjask looked toward the voice. "Lijum." He grinned a bit.

Lijum pointed to the lump on Kyjask's head. "Looks like we match. Oh, wait, no, yours looks a lot worse, mate."

"What're you doing here?" Kyjask asked as the two carried him the rest of the way to the tavern door, which Lijum pulled open.

"I wasn't about to sail with that dick of a laspira who lashed me. Besides. Heard you were goin' to the tavern. My old stompin' grounds." He grinned, running a finger through his mustache.

The two finished carrying Kyjask inside, and they brought him downstairs into the large gathering hall. It'd been a storage cellar for casks, hogsheads, and kegs, but the barkeep had opted to deal with smaller stores in a more secure room. Now it was one big drinking hall, when open.

"I have to tend to the injured," Radgild explained as the two set Kyjask down into a chair.

"How many are hurt?" Kyjask asked. "Nobody's dead, are they?"

"Fortunately no," Radgild responded, "but we've got four with crossbow bolts. Two aren't serious, but the other two are chest wounds. Those two, I'm a little worried about."

"I'm surprised you went with us," Kyjask remarked with a smile. "You seemed to favor Ugrensh and Rakesis, from what I'd briefly gathered."

"I favor order," Radgild corrected sourly. "Besides, I have a job to do. When fists and bolts started flying I insisted on tending to the injured. Ugrensh wasn't having any of that. So off I went as well. I'm not happy about this... any of this." He straightened up. "Excuse me."

"This is NOT a sightseeing tour!" Secharik shouted down as Keisik descended the stairs to the hall. The mage looked more unhinged than Kyjask had seen him so far.

"I don't get much chance to see things off the ship," Keisik retorted defensively. "I was curious."

"That curiosity will get you killed. Now go sit down!" Secharik ordered. Sighing, Keisik folded his arms and complied. "Kyjask. I'm glad you're okay. I'm sorry it worked out this way. The ship is gone."

"I know," Kyjask answered. "So give me the rundown."

"Rundown?" Secharik asked blankly.

Dakkis rolled his eyes. "Here's where we are, 'captain'." That last word was uttered in pure contempt. "Ugrensh and eight others are at sea with our ship. Maybe they're heading to Batro, maybe somewhere else. Who knows. There are no other big ports for quite a ways, so they may still be heading to Batro. Our ship is fast, but with such a limited crew they'll be hamstrung. None of it matters, really, because we don't have a ship to go after them."

Kyjask grunted. Things weren't looking good. "Can we charter one?" he asked.

"With what money?" the cynical thin ekrate asked. "Most of us were ushered off without our money or belongings. As it is, 'captain', of the twenty or so regulars that got off the ship, we've only got... let me see. Twelve here. Thirteen if we include you."

"And Lijum," Kyjask reminded.

"Oh, oh, sorry," the thin ekrate ranted. "And Lijum. What a mighty crew we have!"

Kyjask peered at the back of the room, where three more were joining them. "Well, we've got a few more."

Dakkis looked at the back of the room. A large, solid, and muscled varg that Kyjask briefly remembered seeing on the ship stood there, sizing up the room. The red laspira from the hold was there, and what was more, he was holding a bag of something. Hotspur, the fetaig carpenter, was there as well. The tiger's presence at least meant that they'd have more trouble patching their ship, which may have crippled Ugrensh even more.

Dakkis nodded. "That's a little better at least. Kurrigan and Hotspur. The laspira, I don't recognize. He's another jobber."

The two he'd named nodded in greeting, and they were definitely welcome sights as Kurrigan and Hotspur were larger members of the crew, lending some muscle that they needed. The red laspira stepped forward. "Name's Ressei. I've got a, uh, problem and proposition for you."

Kyjask nodded in response, saying nothing yet. Ressei took that as his cue.

"That bag of gold you left... during the fighting I managed to make off with a fair share of it," he explained.

"Yes," Dakkis murmured disapprovingly. "I remember that seemed to be your chief concern."

"What I have here," Ressei continued, patting the bag, "is over 200 gold. I figure you're needing gold right about now, and it is probably more yours than mine."

"An apt observation," Dakkis interjected caustically.

"I was hoping to use it to pay off a little... debt I have. 500 gold. I owe it to a guy here... which is why I can't stay. He's trying to track me down. Even this isn't going to make him happy. But if I get him the entire 500...."

"I get it." Kyjask thought about it for a minute. "You realize we could just take this gold. It is ours."

"Yeah," Ressei admitted. "But I didn't have to bring it to you at all. I didn't steal it, really... not if I'm giving it to you now. I figure, I help you out of a bind... and you help me out of a bind."

Kyjask glanced at Dakkis. "We do need to charter a ship. Ressei, you've got yourself a deal."

"Look, Kyjask," Dakkis cut in, "I don't want to shit on your plan, but you've got to realize something. Our crew has just been shattered. We've been forced to choose between Ugrensh, who we all know, and who was already showing signs of being way too greedy and demanding, probably would have fractured the crew anyway... and you. You! You've got no sailing experience. All you are is Krizzik's son... who, I will admit, gave you the ship, but it's fuzzier if he left you in charge." He paced back and forth. "If you go after Ugrensh, the blood's gonna run a lot redder next time. What's your goal? Just to snatch the ship? Are we going to kill the other members of our crew?"

Kyjask thought about it for a moment. "No. I'm gonna unite the crew."

Dakkis scoffed. "Unite the crew? Don't you get it, boy? Ugrensh tried to kill you."

"That's the odd thing," Kyjask admitted. "Ugrensh had a bunch of chances to kill me. He didn't."

"He did smash your head into the guardrail and throw you to drown in the ocean," Dakkis shot back.

Kyjask shook his head. "He did what he thought he could get away with. He knew killing me outright would have turned the crew against him. I think he figured tossing me over would more show who was in charge. Every time I talked with Ugrensh, he seemed concerned about looking weak, about me making him look bad. He was trying to tell me my place. Someone who's just out to kill you doesn't do that."

Dakkis considered that. "Maybe. But the fact is, you were insubordinate. I know Ugrensh likes people who follow orders. He doesn't like to be questioned. If you rile him up enough, Ugrensh does kill people."

"He hasn't killed anyone on the crew, has he?" Kyjask checked.

"No, but he doesn't consider you part of the crew. He did have a deep respect for Krizzik, though, and you are his son. ... His son, who he chose to inherit the ship instead of him."

Kyjask nodded. "The ship isn't his, legally. That's got to matter to him. Not to mention he still has a captain's cabin he can't get into. It's locked again. He needs me."

"He threw you off the ship, 'captain'."

"Dakkis, would you quit saying 'captain' like that? It's as if you mock me every single time." Kyjask had been growing annoyed with that.

"Until you show you're qualified to be captain, you'll have to put up with me mocking you. I'm still willing to give you that chance, though. I'd take it and run with it."

It was easy to forget that he barely knew any of these people, and yet he was in charge of them... as long as they'd let him be.

"Yes, he threw me off the ship. The thing he can't escape right now is that he needs me. More than half the crew left, he doesn't own the ship, and he can't use the captain's cabin. He can't get around that," Kyjask explained.

"Well!" a voice intoned from the stairs leading to the hall, "Not without strong magic, anyway!"

Kyjask had been so busy talking, and the others so busy listening, that they hadn't noticed the new arrival. There stood an ekrate, looking old and wisened, with a bushy long mustache and goatee, dressed in aubergine robes.

"Ketakris." The recognition of the name was mixed. Kyjask still didn't trust this mage.

Secharik, though, brightened as soon as he saw the old wizard. "Oh, thank goodness!"

"What I said is true, Kyjask. The spell on the cabin can be undone, but it would take strong magic, or a lot of money to find someone with that strong magic. Knowing Ugrensh, he's doesn't have the first and probably wouldn't be willing to part with the second."

"How did you even know where we were?" Kyjask asked.

"I know the moment the Tempest sails. I have an interest in that ship. That is why I am here. Kyjask, if I can have a word in private?" He beckoned Kyjask with the crook of his finger.

"This is important, Ketakris-"

"Indeed it is, which is why I want to speak with you. What I have to say is not meant for all ears. Come with me." He started up the stairs.

Kyjask was convinced that all that would happen once he followed the mage upstairs was that he'd be telling him off good. He reached the top of the stairs. Ketakris closed the door, and, before Kyjask could launch into a tirade, the ekrate spoke.

"I haven't been entirely forthcoming about my interest with you and the ship."

"Well, imagine-"

"Do hush up a moment and let me talk." Even the scolding was good-natured and airy. The old ekrate continued, "within that captain's cabin is a magical artifact, well warded, so that it is rather undetectable to most. It is how I can track the ship. By their current bearing, Ugrensh is planning to take the ship to Batro. I need someone to look after that artifact. It is valuable, but more to the point, it is extremely... well, useful, or dangerous, depending on who uses it. Kyjask, that artifact is already attuned to you and to your father. It's attuned to bloodline. Flow of life. You are his son, and so you are as attuned to it as he is."

"It's in the captain's cabin? What is it?"

"For now, I opt not to tell you just what it is. What I will share is that I told your father Krizzik it was a chest. I put a marker on the chest so that I could trace it, should it ever be taken. That way, I'd likely be onto someone trying to steal the artifact. On the day your father disappeared, so did the chest. I have been unable to track it so far. Was there a chest in the captain's cabin?" Ketakris checked.

Kyjask shook his head. He hadn't seen a chest.

"As I thought. Someone is after the artifact. It remains on the ship. Ugrensh is not one I would trust, but he remains ignorant of the artifact, I believe. He does, however, know what it does. Your father was critically wounded, twice in the past. He surely would have died, but he was on this ship, near the artifact. The item has tremendous power to heal. Instead of bleeding out, your father healed. He has a reputation for being a great fighter and strong man, not because he never gets hurt, but because he's escaped death a few times. You, too, have protection from harm."

Kyjask furrowed his brow, touching the throbbing knot on his head, and he thought of the aching within his body. "Don't think so, mage."

"You still feel pain, and the artifact only activates currently when you are near death. You should be thankful it is so. Its power comes at a great price." Ketakris searched for how to explain what he was about to say. "Within our bodies are billions of... well, the very essence, the very building block of life. They make us up the way grains of sand make up a beach, or.... The way water makes up an ocean. I'm sorry, I deal mostly in elemental magic, so it has directed my way of analogy. The point is, these building blocks of life... they only have so much to give, themselves. The artifact exploits them, puts them into overdrive. It heals you... but it taxes your body. You age, prematurely. Your father was forty-nine... this year. Yet for all intents and purposes, I'd say he had aged as if he were five years older than that. Not disastrous, and not a bad price, given that he got to live another day. It was enough that he could feel it, and his fur had greyed a bit more before its time, his skin had toughened... the usual things with aging," he remarked with a grin, tugging at his own greyed whiskers. Ketakris halted himself. "I could go on about it for some time. You have that protection as well. If you are near death, the artifact will actually... deconstruct you, pull you to it, and reconstruct you. I know of no other way to explain it. It will heal you, but it will tax your body. It will not shield you from pain or discomfort. It will only rescue you when your life becomes critically fragile."

Kyjask folded his arms. "So that's why the interest in me."

"Yes, well, forgive me for giving you a magical artifact," Ketakris murmured sarcastically. "One that saves your life at that. Your father gave me what I needed: the artifact would be ever-moving and warded, so that no one would likely ever discover it. Any miracles of its usage occur at sea for the most part, and any tellings of witnessed usage are shrugged off as tall tales. I trusted him with it for years now. But even now, I'm not sure if that trust was well-placed. You know what happened to your father as well as I do, which is to say, not at all."

Kyjask checked, "You don't want me to do anything for you, then, regarding this thing?"

Ketakris shook his head. "All I want you to do is keep it safe, which is done best by not even thinking about it. It can't be used actively, only passively. But, you'll have to get the ship back. To that end... you may run into trouble. I am going to be assisting Secharik and Keisik with their dilemma, naturally, but Secharik is not really an adept mage. I'm going to send someone along with you, to help out with that."

"A mage?" Kyjask clarified.

"Of sorts," Ketakris replied cryptically. He turned from Kyjask slightly, rotating his hands around each other in front of him. A breeze filled the tavern, as if a sudden wind had just whipped into the tavern. Ketakris brought his hands closer together until he stopped swirling them, and they clasped together.

"G'rff, hrrr uhhnmnn mm!" The sound came from Ketakris's hands, and that's when Kyjask realized that he was holding something between them. The mage pulled his top hand off, and a little figure scrambled to his feet within his other hand.

"You know I hate that spell!" the little being protested. It looked like an ekrate... a little version of Kyjask and Ketakris's own race, unclothed, and very, very cross. It had to be shorter than a foot tall. Much shorter in fact. "One minute I'm minding my business, the next I'm whisked away, and then I'm smothering! What the hell'd you call me for, anyway?"

Ketakris glanced down at his hand. "I require your services, obviously."

"Hold on a moment," Kyjask pressed. "You want us to go after him. Why is it you're not financing the charter of another ship?"

Ketakris raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really, now. You're going to start expecting me to fix all of your problems?"

"If you're expecting us to reclaim the ship, I'd think you'd want to help with the effort," Kyjask argued.

"Hey-" the small ekrate in Ketakris's hand tried to interject, but the two continued.

"Magic isn't meant to solve your problems, my boy."

"I'm not asking magic, I'm asking you. For money, specifically," Kyjask clarified.

"Well," the mage responded sardonically, "that's much better, it's different entirely."

"HEY!" Though he was small, the little ekrate had a decent set of lungs on him. "You just brought me here, could you not talk like I don't matter? Hell, if you're gonna violate me, at least buy me dinner first."

"Violate?" Ketakris asked with an amused smile. "Come now."

"Who says I wanna do this favor for you anyway?" the tiny one protested as he folded his arms. "What is it, anyway?"

"I want you to accompany-" Ketakris began.

"Uh uh, no way."

"Pint, I have done several favors for you," the mage reminded the miniscule one in his hand.

"The favor you did for me was giving me shelter and protection. That favor ends when you start passing me around like a complementary muffin," Pint retorted.

"Afraid you might die?" Ketakris asked with an indulgent grin.

"That is not funny," the figure remarked disapprovingly. "I'm vulnerable out there."

Ketakris shrugged, effectively jiggling his hand a bit as he did so.

"Hey, watch it!" Pint chided.

"You'll be fine. No one knows your nature," Ketakris coaxed.

"Exactly. Not sure about you, but when people see me, they do a double take and stare. It's only a matter of seconds before I get hands reaching for me, prodding me. That's enough to worry me. Just... send me home, please."

"You're going to augment some mages-" Ketakris explained.

"What part of no way did you not understand?"

"I could just turn you out. You're going, Pint," the headmaster pronounced. "If you'll excuse me," he continued, addressing Kyjask, "I'm going to meet with Secharik and his son." It was as if he was fading from view, and Pint faded in much the same way. Before Kyjask could fully wrap his head around it, the two were gone.

Mages were odd ones. That much Kyjask knew. He turned to head back downstairs. He heard a bit of a commotion downstairs. Dakkis noted him descending, and called over to him.

"He just- Kyjask, Secharik and his son disappeared! Just now!" Alarm was present in Dakkis's voice. Most of those gathered were unsettled too, and their eyes were on Kyjask as well.

"Yeah, I know. I think Ketakris is talking with them. He's giving them a little assistance for our voyage. Speaking of which. Whose ship can we charter?" Kyjask asked, wanting to get after Ugrensh as quickly as possible.

"At this time of night? Well, granted, it's nearly dawn. Our best bet is to wait a few hours. If our offer's sweet enough, we might get someone to sail then and there, provided they have the crew for it."

Kyjask nodded.

"Let me ask you something. Are you looking to be the captain? To share responsibility with Ugrensh? Or to just let him manage things?" Dakkis asked.

He shrugged. "I don't think Ugrensh will respond well to me having all the authority, and I don't think he does well when he's in control, unchecked."

"So sharing power?"

"I don't know," Kyjask admitted honestly. "I think we should have the crew decide. I can't imagine anyone's happy with how things are, right now."

"I'd take that bet," Dakkis agreed.

"We won't know until we try. ... And we should try," Kyjask added. "Let's get an idea of what we need, and when this place comes alive this morning, we'll get ourselves a ship."