A slender young girl entered, fearfully scanning the room. She made a slight gesture alerting the ever-present door guard to let the first visitor pass. She hopped into her throne, a glamorous chair of molten riches and various treasures forged to shape, and began tracing a gold cup protruding from it. “Just never knew when to exit.” Nekira replied with a sly smile. “You always knew how to make an entrance…” Pauslay chuckled. “Pauslay.” she nodded towards the boatswain. The room erupted in laughter and applause. Without losing stride she side kicked one of the legs of the furniture snapping it in two, causing the sailor to land anchor first within the rubble. Her thick heavy boots clicked as she walked towards the drunkard. Nekira emerged from a shadowy door frame behind the bar. The crowd chilled and stood at attention. 'I’ll show you a Kraken!' the drunkard slammed back and howled out in laughter. “Get down or I’ll feed you to the Kraken.' a voice threatened. He’d drunkenly hoisted himself up onto a stool and hopped to a nearby table raising what appeared to be a huge sloshing jug. Minutes turned to hours flowing with the wine until suddenly a sailor jolted everyone back to attention. “Drakantehirr!” a roar of approval burst from the sailors, using a word from an ancient language that celebrated that they had survived another day on the turbulent tides. “A round of Dabarian wine for them, they need it.” The boatswain slammed a pouch of coins on the bar. 'A lass of whom we sailors miss, who’s tender touch leaves you in fits, so come back fast or she’ll be pissed, when yer aboard the Red Abyss! The tentacles envelope you, its squeezes crack the mast in two, but when you’ve had a round or two, that Kraken ain’t got bisk on you!” Inside, the weekly assembly was taking place where travelers from all over the world sent in petitions and requests to the ruler of the Olkian Archipelago, the redoubtable Captain Nekira. Various crewmen funneled into the tavern roaring out sea shanties. A maritime political outpost turned tavern that welcomed visitors from the Gulf of Karmoligan to the wild outback of Olkia.

After a long, heavy snort he haggardly dropped the anchor into the depths of the sea and crossed the dock towards the Palace of Lost Ships. It’d been a relentless week with seemingly no end to the assaults on merchant ships coming from the Empire of the Sun. Maintenance on the famous galleon Red Abyss was now complete. He took a step back, scanned the sails with a lingering gaze and exhaled. *CREAK* The boatswain wiped his brow, a wrench dangling from his hand. Nekira is a member of the Nosteramean people, a race indistinguishable to humans.

The Beast Within by Morte