[hr][hr][h1][b][i][center][color=pink]Cuyler Eysteinsson[/color][/center][/i][/b][/h1]
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[hr][center][color=pink]Location:[/color] [url=https://s.newsweek.com/sites/www.newsweek.com/files/styles/full/public/2018/03/21/sea-thieves-sloop.png]The Hefring[/url] - The Traders’ Docks [/center][hr]

[url=https://d1u5p3l4wpay3k.cloudfront.net/seaofthieves_gamepedia/thumb/2/23/Sloop_side.png/1200px-Sloop_side.png]The Hefring[/url] was Cuyler’s home not only in the open water, but when it was docked as well. It had been his father’s ship but since his death Cuyler had made some changes to it. On the deck, one of the first things the young carpenter added was a creative design of [url=https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQpVq8JrFOf7XfC_93QuV8k0VdlGJZ9gBoHHJX3jp92SYuexqF1]Yggdrasil[/url], with the [url=https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQB5h1wQ48ONzg6GgE9W_IIceZJWsK9wYUZG3EfuUo1dDEpCSAE9g]symbol of Valhalla[/url] carved in the center of the tree. Under the bowsprit however, was Cuyler’s calling card and whenever you saw the God of the Sea coming, you knew it was the Hefring. He had painstakingly carved out a rough design of what he imagined the God of the Sea, Aegir, to look like. Ironically, Aegir was a known [b]Magyk[/b] user and although Cuyler feared [b]Magyk[/b] and what it had done, he respected it; therefore, represented it on his ship in hopes of safe passage across the seas. With such love put into this ship, Cuyler found no need to build a house on land back in the Land of Lost Nights. Besides, he had no real ties to that place anymore. So when the rioting started in the Castle, this is where Cuyler sat with Thia. She sat beside her companion, in her wolf form, watching the other Traders walk up and down the docks to converse about what was going on. The firelight from the riots danced in her yellow eyes, making it look like fire was in her eyes itself. 
Cuyler was already safely at the docks before the rioting started, so when the Palace guard, along with some Young Army personal, pushed all of the Northern Traders and other traders back onto the docks before locking the gates, Cuyler was busy below deck. When he heard the increase in noise and shouts, he came above to see the fire and hear the shouting and crys of people beyond the Castle walls. It was a sight to see with all the burning occuring to the right of them but the screaming seemed to come from all around. On the other side of the wall though, it was eerily quiet. The waters were still below the ships and even the Traders watched on in silence. Those from the Land of Lost Nights all had their mind on one thing. Instinctively, Cuyler looked up at the heavens and sighed. 
[color=pink]”Halley, what have you done?”[/color] One by one the Traders boarded their own boats and fell asleep to the sounds of rioting. Cuyler went below deck but Thia stayed above, keeping on eye on everything while her companion slept. 
First light came and Cuyler was already sitting on the deck of his boat. He wore the same furs he took back from Ayra when he left her the evening before. His mind drifted to her for a moment but he didn’t have time to worry for her. Even though Halvor had arrived to the Castle with his friend, the pair of them had had a friendly competition going and Cuyler was surprised to have not seen Halvor board his boat to talk. Cuyler jumped off his ship, leaving Thia fast asleep back in her Norwegian Elkhound form and went to confront the guard at the gate. When Cuyler questioned them, they didn’t even turn to acknowledge him but continued to stare into the streets and ignored him. Frustrated, Cuyler hit the gate with his fist before he turned and walked down the docks towards Halvor’s ship. Along the way he stopped and talked to other Traders to see if they had seen him. No one knew anything other than the Traders would be kept on the docks until further notice. Apparently, there was a possibility that this was started by them. Ridiculous. 
Cuyler reached Halvor’s ship and found his best friend sitting there, head in his hands as he trembled from the cold. Cuyler boarded the ship and walked over to the boy who was not much older than Cuyler. It was here that Cuyler heard the sniffling and realized that the boy was not simply shivering from the cold. Fear gripped Cuyler’s heart. 
[color=pink]”Olaf, where is Halvor?”[/color] He placed a hand on the boy’s knee as he questioned him. It didn’t take much coaxing for Olaf to tell everything that had happened last night. He spoke through tears but Cuyler heard it all. People pouring out of the Winking Duck tavern, yelling for the Queen’s head and the next thing Olaf knew, the tavern was on fire. He tried getting back in, for Halvor was still inside but people continued to run out and then the building collapsed. 
“How are we supposed to bury a missing body? What do I tell his family? Do we even have a funeral? How are we supposed to have a funeral without a body?” Olaf questioned no one in particular before he burst into sobs again. 
Cuyler shifted and sat beside the boy and rubbed his back while he cried. The comforting didn’t last long as a rat came scurrying aboard and stopped a foot in front of Cuyler. It questioned his identity before revealing it’s message and handed over a badge to Cuyler. He flipped the purple badge over and over in his hands. 
[color=pink]”I will go to the tavern and see what can be found. If there is a body to bring home, I will bring him,”[/color] Cuyler told the crying boy. He rested his forehead on Olaf’s head a moment before he stood and left the ship. He gripped the badge tightly in his hand, walking down to his ship to collect Thia before returning to the gate. He shoved his hand through and tapped the guard, showing the badge but refused to let it go. 
Many things flooded through Cuyler’s head. Surely if he had received this Arya was fine, but what if Rowland had been the one to send this because something had indeed happened? The fear already in Cuyler’s heart held him tighter, refusing to let go. 

[hr][hr][h1][b][i][center][color=#006400]Amarantha[/color][/center][/i][/b][/h1]
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[hr][center][color=#006400]Location:[/color] The Palace [/center][hr]

After the [b]Physik[/b] looked at Amarantha and told her she essentially would be perfectly fine come morning, she was led out of the infirmary and taken to a room to spend the night in the Palace. Apparently they didn’t want her in the same room as two royals. Pity really. Where she spent the night did not matter. Amarantha didn’t sleep much with the rioting going on outside. She was attuned to everything and even if she tried to drift, a shout or an explosion would signal her awake again. Her army was out there, her people and she had no idea who led them. Amarantha was always in the thick of it with them, she had a general idea of what everyone was doing at all times. Not to mention, Puck had not come to see her or let her know she could sleep forever because once again, he would pick up her slack. Actually, it was more alarming that Puck hadn’t come and enforced himself on her at all.
The night went by slowly and Amarantha perhaps got one solid hour of sleep; however, the little sleep did not seem to hinder her healing process. Gingerly, Amarantha stretched her broken arm to find she had full range and zero pain. She sat up and moved her leg in the same motion. It was hard pressed to ever see a smile of pure bliss on the Deputy Hunter’s face but at this moment, it filled her entire face. She jumped from the bed, ecstatic but the joy was quickly disrupted by a knock on her door and she was brought to a room with other Castle officials, including the Queen and [b]ExtraOrdinary[/b] Wizard. She scanned the room as she sat. Puck was nowhere to been seen. It did not take Amarantha long at all to discover what had happened. So who had killed him? There was no possible way that Puck would have gone out into the riots. He would have happily stayed behind the Palace walls until the rioting stopped. So it stood to reason that her commander was now dead. The death toll continued to climb as the meeting went on but none of the numbers were concret. She listened silently, flipping one of her knives back and forth while discussions continued on how to set order to the streets. Amarantha could make no decision until she knew the official numbers of her Army. Killed or deserters, the list of possibilities went on. 
With her part currently done and the Palace guard doing most of the maintenance outside, Amarantha retreated back to her rooms. She removed her knives and began throwing them at the wall. One spot for the Wizard that fell on her, that witch that threw her out the window, the Castle and for Puck. This one was considerably lower and proved more of a challenge to hit the center each time. There was another knock on the door and Amarantha swiveled and threw the knife at the door. It hit hard, sticking in well. Frowning because it hit a fraction off center to where she had been aiming, Amarantha walked to the door and opened it to find a messenger. They did not bring good news. One of the medics was there to reveal some information about their numbers but Amarantha hesitated. Why come to her? It only confirmed that Puck was dead. Now she was in a position of power and although most of the Young Army did look up to her and follow her instruction, she worried what this would mean for the presence of the Young Army in the Castle. She walked down the hallway, to the front entrance and met a medic from the Young Army. The numbers weren’t good. They had been cleaning up bodies all night, many of them faces of the Young Army. From what they could gather of those unaccounted for, 60% had been killed, 34% fled to the Port or the Forest and 6% tried to pass themselves off as orphans. 
[color=#006400]”Return to the caravan, I will be along shortly,”[/color] Amarantha instructed before she turned back around and headed into the Palace. 
Being in the Palace has its advantages. Running water being one. The water here had been enchanted to run and there seemed to be an endless supply, a luxury Amarantha was going to take full advantage of. Yes, perhaps there were more pressing matters but Amarantha was not going to let the opportunity pass her by. As she approached her room, she noticed a familiar shape a few doors down. Asha the Magykal. Perhaps she could gather some insight on the death of her commander. 
[color=#006400]”Asha, may I trouble you a moment?”[/color]