Real Merewives (Triton)

Listening to the stories being shared, Triton leans towards Sylvia, "Now that seems like just the thing we were looking for. Let's have a listen."

They make their way over, Triton grabbing and offering a seat to Sylvia. If she is thirsty.....for refreshment that this bar serves, he will of course offer to buy her something while they listen.

She touches the arm of one of the servers and asks if there's anything here that's really unusual. She describes a few things, but Lady Sylvia settles on something they hardly ever serve--only keep the ingredients because several cargo ships routinely hire Trolls for their strength. Within a minute or so she brings a cup of something called Dragon Afterbirth Ale. It looks disgusting.

When Lady Sylvia takes a sip, she almost purrs. "Haven't had this in ages!" she admits. "And this is actually poor quality. I've always had the premier brands before now." This pleases her.

"How can the Sea Fang be gone?" one of the patrons demands.

"Yeah, its damn near a hundred feet tall and its edges stretch nearly that far under the surface!"

"It'd be great if it were gone."

"Well, yeah, but--it can't be! It just can't!"

The one who made the claim shakes his head. "That's what I would've thought. We thought we were done for! Cause a current that never's been there before just grabbed us and another ship, drew us right into the path of where it should have been. But it wasn't! It just wasn't there!"

"Its true," said another. "I was there. Saw it with my own eyes! Once we got past, though, we saw land eastward where we never saw land before! Big snow-capped mountains. The tips of them anyway. Could barely see them. That other ship decided to go look. Not us. We had a schedule to meet. Thing is, that ship--the Jolly Dodger--its gone missing now. Nobody's heard of it for over six months."

Silence for a few seconds. "I ain't going anywhere near the Triangle then!" said someone and people laughed.

Triton finds himself a bit shocked when Lady Sylvia touches one of the servers, but decides it is not important at the moment. He looks at her and her drink.

"Dragon Afterbirth ale huh? See, we are already having fun," he smiles.

Looking back towards the crowd he asks, "What could possibly make the Sea Fang vanish? It's too big, nothing could take it away."

Triton hopes his voice carries as just another one of the patrons enjoying the story. He keeps his tone light and fun, removing any hint of authority and power from his inflection. Best to let the local share as much as they can.

The older Rebman sailor shrugs and says "Merewives?"

Another looks at him funny. "Never heard of them doing anything to rocks or land anything like that before."

"Always kept to their dance before now," is the answer, albeit not with a lot of conviction.

"Something changed," mutters one bearded fellow with an eyepatch. "Currents in the Triangle, Dance of the damned Merewives, the Sea Fang, refugees in Uberwald. Something changed." He downs his mug and gestures to the barkeep for another.

"Even if it was the merewives, what could possibly have disturbed their dance? Too many refugees in Uberwald?" Triton says lightheartedly, hoping to keep the mood light and moving forward.

After a quick glance to see how Lady Sylvia is doing, Triton looks at each of the men in the conversation. Trying to get a sense of their take on things. Are they all spinning fish tales or do a few of them look like they are sharing actual information.

Honestly they come across as a blend of ordinary workers, no more or less honest than others. Their tales? A blend of truth, boasting, speculation and a desire to tell a good tale.

"I don't see how even the merewives could destroy a fracking huge rock!" says one sailor.

"You're right," says another as he takes a swig of what looks ordinary ale. "They could probably kill any number of men if they tried or wanted to, and their storms to could sink whole fleets. But rocks and islands?"

The older Rebman who was telling his story when Triton and Lady Sylvia came in has a thoughtful look in his eyes. "You," he says, pointing to Triton, "have the right of it. Ages and ages the merewives kept to their dance. Everyone with half a brain going to sea learned the dance and avoided it as you would an open flame, or a pack of rabid wolves. But look now! They changed their dance! Currents at the Triangle are different. Sea Fang, gone! Something's happened, something out at sea, something so deep it pushed the merewives into a new dance! So what else might happen, eh? Maybe it'll bring monsters out of the deep, or sink whole islands--maybe even this one! Or raise new ones up--think about that!"

"Woah," says a rail-thin man off to the side, with scruffy beard and wild eyes. "How many ships have gone down in history, do you think? How many with gold and jewels? You think any of these new islands might bring some of them up?"

"Don't be daft," says another. "You really want what's in the deep to come up here? Could be some things are trapped down there, trapped for a reason! Waiting to come back, waiting for the time to be right. Maybe the time is right, now!"

"Oh 'Corn!" says still another. "Stop talking like that! Back where I come from there's these idiots always going on about stuff like that, worshipping a bunch of gods with names no one can pronounce and acting stark crazy. The King's men are always looking to find those fools, because they go around killing people, trying to bring back their winged octopus gods back!" He rolls his eyes.

"Sounds like a bunch of fools, say I," replies the older Rebman. "But something's going on, that I'd swear to. Something's changed. Maybe still changing."

Triton listens to each man in turn, taking in their stories. But it is the Rebman who seems to understand a bit more than the rest. He waits for a pause and speaks out.

"Tis a fine fish tale, but what could possibly be strong enough to affect the dance of the merewives? If something traveled to the ocean depths, they would dispatch it. None visit the merewives and live. No man would return from such a journey. So how can we know? Who could possibly know for sure?"

Triton is not sure if these men would have this information or have any idea where to start looking. But he figures it is worth a try. Keep them talking. Perhaps they did hear something from a traveler who actually did know something of the current troubles.

The older Rebman lit a pipe. "Bah! 'Tisn't anything swimming around in the ocean that changes things like that. Its something bigger, deeper. Like in the late war when Amber's King fell. Felt like the stars and moon shook. Maybe when Oberon breathed his last, an echo of that rattled the keel of time and space for all we know. Or maybe somewhere the Unicorn or Leviathan fought each other, or fought something else and one drop of their blood splashed down and warped the world a little bit."

"Something else?" Triton laughs, "What else could possibly make either of those creatures bleed?"

"Hah!" says the older Rebman puffing his pipe. "If I knew that, would I be here? No, I'd be teaching at some Academy somewhere! Or whispering words of advice to some prince or other! Me, I'm just old and wise enough to see some hint of what kind of thing must've happened. But what it was, precisely--go ask some wizard or priest. Not me."

Triton laughs in good spirits at the old man's reply. Then he stands up and gets the bartender's attention.

"Barkeep, a drink for all of my friends," he announces.

Dropping more than enough money on the bar, Triton makes his way back to Sylvia.

"I believe we have learned what we can here. Let's see what the official word is."

Escorting her out, he plans to make his way towards the palace in order to confer with the royal family and advisers.

Gont is not a monarchy, but is ruled by a small Senate, who meet in Grand Hall on the main square of the city. Nearby of course are all the various departments that operate the day-to-day business of government. Signs in numerous languages point the way.

"I wonder," says Lady Sylvia as they walk, "that my own ship's men heard not this song of the merewives? We were there, within the circle of calm inside the squall, yet none of my males responded."

Triton thinks about Lady Sylvia's words as they walk towards the Senate.

"That is interesting. Perhaps your men are protected by their attraction to you? You do have a way with your subjects. Or do you believe that there is another reason?"

"One obvious answer--my mark is upon them all. It comes my having fed upon them, and it subtly changes their aura. My kind can see it. Allows us to 'claim' individuals, which puts them under protection because when a vampire feeds upon someone marked by another, they run the risk of poison." She gives a shrug. "Perhaps these merewives sense the same." A little chuckle emerges from behind her veil. "That alone was the reason I never sought a taste of your vitae, Prince Triton. The mark upon your own aura is quite exotic, but unmistakable."

Triton winks at her, "I love it when you call me exotic. Or are you saying I am poison? Flirting can be so hard. Next time let's just make out," he smiles.

Making their way down the streets, Triton is looking over the people and the architecture. Trying to get a feel for this city.

The city is beautiful, or at least extremely scenic. Little expense has been spared to arrange pleasing shapes and views. Sanitation clearly has a sizable budget. A variety of fountains and parks dot the city.

Lady Sylvia laughs, "You may or not be poison, but I am not yet quite so jaded as to tempt it. As to how your aura acquired such a mark--that is something you would know rather than myself. But it isn't something with which you were born. Quite impossible. Besides, I've seen many a member of your family. You alone bear this mark. I wonder who placed it upon you?"

Art galleries, eateries, gambling establishments, libraries seem to be everywhere, along with a wide variety of different hotels. In the distance, the foothills rise, crowned with some of the most beautiful forests Triton can recall seeing. Further away are a few mountains, snow-capped and majestic.

Triton lets his senses wander, taking in all of the beauty that the city has to offer. He tries not to seem alarmed by Sylvia's statement about the mark, but he can't help but be curious.

"Are you sure this mark you are seeing isn't just the Pattern? It leaves quite an impression you know."

"I have met several members of Oberon's family, including the late King himself. But you are the only one to bear this mark. Who put it there, I cannot say, but based on my own experience I would suggest that person must have been physically very close to you--touching, in fact."

Triton wonders if his mother or brother would be capable of leaving such a mark. But he figures the most likely suspect is Nimue. He makes a mental note to ask about it when he next speaks with any of them. For now he will just hope that his mark, like Sylvia's mark on her men, might provide a bit of protection from the merewives.

"Thank you for telling me. That is interesting. Now what do you say we go cause a ruckus? I have a feeling that I will not be well received by the ruling government of this country," he smiles.

Lady Sylvia waves him forward. "I do hope you can do create an interesting piece of chaos in your quest for these merewives."

"Don't worry lady Sylvia, if there is one thing that I have a gift for, it's causing chaos. This should be interesting. Especially since sister Mircalla has probably been getting to work telling people how horrible I am," he smiles.


"Oh, I just remembered, I told my cousin I would call her when we landed here. There is a chance she may well ask to join us. Do you want me to make that call or would you rather that we spend our time alone?"

"Your choice, Prince Triton," is her answer. "I can be patient."

"You know, she seemed a little crazy. Might add some more excitement to our journey. Why don't I give her a call real fast and see what's up. Pardon me."

Triton pulls out Mint's trump and reaches for contact.

"Hey Mint, it's your incredibly good looking cousin. Pick up."

A somewhat fuzzy image of Mint aboard a ship comes into view. Winnow or someone of a similar build and some sailors are barely visible in the background.

"So you made... to Uberwald. I'm... to get to... where I can... back safely. I'll... you when I... somewhere closer to... Watch out for... Unicorn people and... the Merewives at... costs. They are... far more so... I ever would... guessed."

"Copy that. Safe travels cousin," Triton waves and signs off.

"Well, I guess it's just you and me after all. Just the way you wanted it," he winks.