Pieter watched Wheel and Uban nearly sprint for the nearest tavern, a small smile on his weathered face. He remembered when he used to be like that. Hell, he [i]was[/i] still like that. But not tonight. Tonight he had to take care of something else. Pieter walked away from the Borealis, the old girl. She'd stay afloat without her priest in harbor. He scratched his neck, spat on the rough wooden logs laid out for the street, and began to amble through the docks. To anyone watching, they would have seen an old sea dog walk in a drunken stupor, taking random corners and turns, even backing up once or twice. The slumped figures watching in alleys of warehouses and rare tavern turned away from him, bored and contemptuous of another drunk sailor. The magic streetlights that lit other neighborhoods in the town were nowhere to be seen, and so Pieter navigated in the dark, the only sound the lapping hiss of the waves. 

Finally, he stopped next to an old, shuttered warehouse that had been frequently vandalized. Lewd carvings were etched into the wood surrounding the warehouse, and one particularly ambitious miscreant had graffitied an outrageously busty mermaid in yellow paint. A small brazier burned next to the door. The entire street was abandoned, there was no reason to be here at night, and nothing left to steal. Pieter approached the door, pounding twice on the stained wood with his fist. Pieter waited silently for a minute, straightening his waistcoat and adjusting his trousers. Sucking on his teeth, he went to pound on the door again. As his hand raised, the door swung open, revealing a young boy in a nightgown holding a scuffed candlestick, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Sir?"

Pieter sighed, and put a hand on the boys shoulder. 

"Lead me to the temple elder, boy. Tell him that Pieter Seablood is here." 

The boy nodded, turning and letting Pieter into the temple.

The hallway Pieter entered looked like it hadn't been maintained in years. Broken wooden chairs were piled on both sides of the hallway, and Pieter tripped on rubbish the boy deftly stepped past, darting around corners that Pieter hadn't realized was there. Finally, they came to a doorway that was hidden by threadbare curtains. The boy pushed aside the curtain and led Pieter in.

The room was richly furnished with stolen goods, a princes bedchamber transported in a dirty warehouse. A thick Barizian rug lay on the floor. A wrought iron four poster bed was in the corner, Pieter wondered how they managed to bring that in. A rack displayed fine swords and pistols. A dusty chandelier lit the room. A tired looking woman near Pieters age sat at a wooden table, silently writing a letter with a large ostrich plume. Pieter stood in the entryway, waiting.

"Come in, Pieter. You're a regular bastard, don't pretend like you're not. Fix yourself from the drinks cabinet." 

Pieter crossed the room, boots sinking into the rich carpet. Not bothering to inspect the other drinks, he took the rum bottle and had a swig. It was good.

The woman scoffed and said, "Jack. You're dismissed. Thank you."

The boy bobbed his head, turned, and left the room. Pieter stood silently until the sound of footsteps faded away.

"Maria. I've missed you." 

"Like hell you did, you old fool. Come here, let me see you." 

He stumped over, propping himself on the corner of her desk. Looking at her, Pieter saw the young woman he had known so many years ago. The small, delicate nose. The wide mouth that broke into a dazzling smile. Her long black hair, now gray, hung in ringlets framing her face. Her soft brown eyes hadn't changed, though. 

"Sea and Salt, you've gotten uglier."

"Ha! And you've lost none of your vinegar." 

She sighed, carefully setting aside the letter and stoppering the inkpot. 

"I wish you were right. Sometimes I think I made a mistake coming ashore to run this temple. I'd rather be aboard a ship, my only concern making sure my crew was set right with the gods."

Pieter slipped off the desk and knelt in the carpet, his hands clasping hers. 

"Maria, you've kept this entire damn coast in line since you stepped up. You've still got the vinegar."

She turned her head to face him, hair cascading down her face.

"You're a terrible liar." 

"Hmm. Am I lying when I say this?" He whispered intently in her ear, and Maria's face turned pink.

Pieter rarely slept ashore. He didn't sleep much that night, but he did stay ashore.