[color=lightgray][center][center] [color=#F97FCA]✦[/color] [color=#7998CE]✧[/color] [color=#6C2DC7]✦[/color] [color=#87CEEB]✧[/color] [color=#D2B48C]✦[/color] [color=#EE82ED]✧[/color] [color=#7DBC89]✦[/color] [h1][b][color=#F97FCA]M[/color][color=#E58BD3]e[/color][color=#D18DDD]e[/color][color=#B88EE2]t[/color][color=#9A91E0]i[/color][color=#7998CE]n[/color][color=#6C2DC7]g[/color] [color=#87CEEB]t[/color][color=#A9B7E8]h[/color][color=#D2B48C]e[/color] [color=#EE82ED]P[/color][color=#CF8FDC]r[/color][color=#B29CD0]i[/color][color=#94A9B8]n[/color][color=#7DBC89]c[/color][color=#7DBC89]e[/color][/b][/h1] [color=#7DBC89]✦[/color] [color=#EE82ED]✧[/color] [color=#D2B48C]✦[/color] [color=#87CEEB]✧[/color] [color=#6C2DC7]✦[/color] [color=#7998CE]✧[/color] [color=#F97FCA]✦[/color] [/center] [img]https://i.imgur.com/EMre8xJ.jpeg[/img] [hr] [youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ivo9CxWNl0E[/youtube] [hr] [/center] One by one, Prince Ravic Dane watched the strangers introduce themselves. Quietly, he studied each of them as they stood before him and explained exactly who they believed themselves to be. He even smiled when the Tiefling girl could not even muster the courage to step forward at all. Her skin was blue like his, but her heart was weak. It was a good thing the others showed the bite of fire he had hoped for. The Prince’s fingers stopped tapping against his throne as he finally stood once Menzai had finished and stepped back.  [color=#8FFFC3]“It is always interesting to hear how people identify themselves. One rarely gives the full truth… One of you did not give me a name at all, and another…”[/color] His eyes shifted from Corin to Arya. [color=#8FFFC3]“…was too scared to even speak to me.”[/color]  He laughed, and though his joy seemed genuine, it did not take away from the intensity of his weathered eyes.  [color=#8FFFC3]“Not one of you understands where you are, but most of you understand who you are. That, my friends, is far more useful to your Prince.”[/color] He took a step down from his throne, beginning to close the distance between him and the group, each step echoing in the vast chamber of his makeshift throne room as he continued his words. [color=#8FFFC3]“And really…In Port Verge, all that matters is how useful you can be. It has been brought to my attention that your airship will require repairs before it is skyworthy again. [i]Expensive[/i] repairs from what I hear. The good news is, I do have an envoy from House Lyrandar here on the island. She is an honored guest of the Seadragons and has a brilliant mind for airships… But… As I’m sure you all know, things rarely come free in this world, and they [b]never[/b] do on my island. So, perhaps we can work something out, eh?”[/color]  For the second time, Malik stepped ahead of the group, his expression stoic and his eyes focused. [Color=tan]“Prince,”[/color] The elf’s accent thickened slightly to claim Ravic's attention. [Color=tan]“Do not treat us like hounds, waving before us what we seek as though it were some trivial prize. Speak with honor, for you desire something as well. If it is a deal you want, my companions and I will hear it plainly.”[/color] Malik only glanced toward the others, confident none would disagree.  Meanwhile, Menzai observed the approaching prince with a quiet, stern gaze, ears flicking with distaste at the way the boy-prince laughed with joy, but sounded more akin to mocking. His eye glowered at his remark toward Arya, belittling the tiefling’s struggles with regaining her lost courage. And his boastful talk of usefulness soured his mood further, detesting how he talked down to them while clearly seeming to want their services; reminding them of the airship as if to gallantly show he held all the cards meant to bend them easily to his devious whims.  He glanced at Phia to see how she was taking the Prince’s prattling of casual ownership when Malik had chosen to speak up first. Ears perking to the tanned elf’s challenging rebuke; each word was spoken with confidence and rang true to how he felt, giving an acknowledging nod in agreement.”[color=ee82ed] As Sir Malik said, it is better to treat us as respectful guests if you aim to gain our services. You speak of a deal, but until any such talk can proceed, tell us,’ lord’ prince, can you assure us the safety of the ship’s survivors? Until then, you may find our ears stubbornly closed.[/color] ” The wolf finished with a low rumbling, testing growl of his chest. Prince Dane took another few steps towards the group as the first two spoke up. Their comments conjured a wicked smirk that crossed his lips in a way that made him look much older than his general appearance would suggest.  [color=#8FFFC3]“Am I the only one who sees the irony in you lot telling me not to treat you like hounds…just for the dog of the group to step in and start throwing conditions at me as though he has some semblance of control here. Hilarious… Truly.”[/color] A chuckle escaped his dangerous lips as he stopped his descent at the base of the steps below his throne. He looked down at Menzai and offered him a teasing little wink.  [color=#8FFFC3]“But of course, your people are fine. We are pirates, not monsters.”[/color] He bantered. [color=#8FFFC3]“My men only have orders to touch them if they misbehave. As long as they are good, they shall remain good, if you know what I mean.”[/color]  Corin hadn’t considered the idea of the other passengers. He had hoped they had escaped or, at worst, passed peacefully in the crash. So this went beyond the room, and that is what made Corin straighten up. He could negotiate their release — but he debated if having them under the watchful yet malignant eye of the Prince was better than letting loose into the literal den of scum in Port Verge. For now, they may very well be in the safest spot on the island. [color=#6C2DC7]” There is often a very fine line between working something out and being exploited for every last iota of worth.”[/color] Corin paused, his stance less deviant but just as stalwart. [color=#6C2DC7]” Name your terms.”[/color]  The entire situation had Arya’s skin crawling like fire ants. His snide remarks toward her caused her eyes to narrow. He sat on a throne made out of blood and bones–most likely made by exploiting others–and he had the audacity to judge her? Her hand twitched, and her temper briefly flared. The Prince’s attitude reminded her of those she had endured in the past. She scowled and rubbed her wrists. What a jerk.  Once the other passengers were mentioned, Arya’s heart raced faster than it already was. What fresh hell was on this island? It took all her self-control not to start hyperventilating. Had she escaped one cage for another? She squirmed and waited for the Prince to answer Corin. One thing was certain: None of them would be prisoners or property, including the passengers. Stella’s talons dug into her shoulder, but the eagle did not move a muscle or reveal herself.  Phia stepped forward before the prince could give Corin an answer. She had been silent since she had first introduced herself, her grip tightening around her staff as the others had spoken. But her temper had been flaring ever since he had singled Arya out, and it had only burned hotter when he stated the passengers would only be touched if they’d “misbehaved.” Then he had called Menzai a dog, and she could not bear the heat anymore. She stepped closer, pushing herself in front of the group and fixed her amber gaze on Prince Dane with unfiltered fury. [color=F97FCA] “You will not dare call him that.”[/color] Her low voice trembled with emotion as she spoke. [color=F97FCA]” Menzai has more honor in one fang than you could ever dream of having.”[/color] She narrowed her gaze as she glared. [color=F97FCA]“ Name your terms, as Corin said, and stop batting at us like a bored infant. No prince should play such childish games.”[/color] Bastion did not understand why the word dog had made everyone so angry. Dogs were among his favorite things. They were good, at least as far as he understood them. Dogs were loyal, warm, eager, and brave, and they let him pet them. Wendel had even told him once that he should get a good hound instead of a bird, because birds tended to make messes on shiny things. Bastion missed Wendel. A hound was something worth wanting at your side. A hound was something dependable. A hound was not supposed to make Phia’s voice shake with anger or make Menzai’s growl deepen in his chest, but when Prince Ravic Dane said the word, Phia changed, and Menzai changed, and because they changed, Bastion changed too. He did not step in front of Phia, though the first and oldest part of him wanted to. That part of him had been shaped for battlefields with fireballs crashing around him, screaming officers, and innocent people that he needed to move in front of so that he might be crushed before them. Yet Phia had stepped forward on purpose, with her staff in her hand and fury bright in her amber eyes, and Bastion was beginning to understand that protecting someone did not always mean getting in front of them. Sometimes, standing in front of someone meant stealing the moment they had chosen for themselves. So he moved beside her instead, and Phia smiled ever so slightly. His heavy footfalls were measured, but the sound still carried through the chamber as he came close enough for his shadow to fall near hers across the stone. He remained slightly behind her shoulder, not blocking her, not silencing her, but near enough that anyone looking at them would understand exactly what his presence meant. If the Prince reached for her, Bastion would move. But for now, he only watched. Dog? Thrice now, he had his name and the honor of the Oruna tribe insulted, and with it felt his mood sour immensely. To be seen as a belittling pet by Minerva or a filthy mutt and lowly dog by these pirates rankled his blood. The wolf fumed in silent fury, his clawed hands twitching instinctively beneath the long sleeves, but Phia had stepped forward, refusing to allow them to be talked down to; how she defended his honor soothed his feral temper, if partially. Enough to get his foul mood in control and push to internalize his rage for now, for barking like a rabid dog would only serve to worsen the ever-increasing unpleasant tension.  The sight of Bastion stepping to her side as a silent wall ready to act brought him some comfort.  Though from the warforged pose and curious expression, he appeared to be a bit lost in the situation. Once this farce of a meeting was finished and they were free of this cocky prick boy-prince, the group would be sure to apprise him of the situation, loathed as he was to participate in whatever deadly game Prince Dane was playing. Prince Ravic Dane noticed the movement, of course. It would have been difficult not to notice a Warforged of Bastion’s size stepping up to him. The machine that called itself [i]Bastion[/i] had all the subtlety of a fucking fortress, and yet there was something almost charming in the way he did it. Ravic’s smile sharpened with interest as he watched the effect his words had on these people. His attention returned to Phia, and he let the silence stretch for a moment before he laughed, though this time the sound was lower and warmer, less like mockery and more like he had found something unexpectedly entertaining. [color=#8FFFC3]“I like this girl.”[/color] He took one slow step forward; his eyes fixed on Phia with amused approval, even as she had glared daggers his way. His gaze then flicked briefly toward Bastion, lingering just long enough to make it clear the movement had not gone unnoticed, before returning to Phia again. [color=#8FFFC3]“And do relax your guardian, my dear. If I meant you and your little friends harm, we would not be having such a fun conversation.”[/color] [color=F97FCA] “I’m not having any fun.”[/color] Phia informed him bluntly and immediately. Bastion’s fingers then flexed once at his side, a small metallic adjustment that might have meant nothing to anyone who did not know him. He did not know whether Ravic was telling the truth. Since waking into this strange new world, Bastion had learned that words did not always exist to explain what someone meant. Sometimes words hide meaning. Often, he did not know the difference.  Ravic, meanwhile, seemed entirely pleased with the way the moment had unfolded. [color=#8FFFC3]“But you are right about one thing. I have played long enough.”[/color] He clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace along the base of the dais, no longer descending toward them, but moving across the floor instead. [color=#8FFFC3]“You want your airship repaired. I want something returned to me. Convenient, is it not? Two misfortunes meeting in the middle and discovering they might yet solve all their problems if only they would kiss.”[/color] He smiled at his own little joke before continuing.  [color=#8FFFC3]“There is an island not far from here called Courdain. My people…do not like it. Pirates are superstitious creatures, yes, but the superstition is often well founded.”[/color] His eyes moved over the gathered strangers, weighing how much to tell them and how much to leave for the island itself. [color=#8FFFC3]“Ships that sail too close to Courdain have a habit of not coming back. Some sailors claim they hear voices in the fog. Things that are not natural are rumored to be lurking in the shadows there. Sailors are dramatic by nature, so believe as much or as little of that as you like.”[/color] His expression hardened. [color=#8FFFC3]“But the ships vanish all the same.”[/color] Bastion tilted his head curiously as Ravic continued. The wolf raised a suspicious brow, curiously concerned, his ears flicking as the prince casually carried on.  [color=#8FFFC3]“A vessel carrying cargo of great importance to me was foolish enough, or unlucky enough, to fall prey to Courdain. I do not especially care which. The result is the same. The ship is gone, the cargo is gone, and none of my crews will touch the matter.”[/color] He spread the ring-covered fingers of his hands in dramatic fashion as he motioned to the group. [color=#8FFFC3]“Which brings me to you.”[/color] Bastion understood that part at once. He had wondered if they would be seen as guests or prisoners here… But in reality, perhaps they were simply in the right place at the right time for this Prince to use them. But did they have a choice?  [color=#8FFFC3]“Retrieve this…[i]item[/i], bring it back to me, and my honored Lyrandar guest will see to your crippled airship. She has the knowledge. I have the harbor, the supplies, the hands, and the influence to make those repairs possible.”[/color] Ravic paused, letting the promise settle before he added the cost of refusal. [color=#8FFFC3]“Refuse, and of course, the level of our hospitality changes.”[/color] The words were polite in theory, but Bastion did not like them. They had the shape of a choice, yet they did not feel like one, and he tilted his head slightly as he tried to understand why people so often said threatening things in kind ways. It seemed inefficient. It also seemed crueler than simply saying what one meant. Ravic caught the movement and smiled again, clearly entertained by whatever he believed he saw in the warforged’s bright blue eyes. [color=#8FFFC3]“Do not look so troubled, big man. I am not sending you alone. There is one person in Port Verge willing to accompany you. Someone who has…survived the island before.”[/color] Ravic turned his gaze from Bastion back to Phia, then to Menzai, and finally to Corin, who had been practical enough to ask for the terms plainly. [color=#8FFFC3]“Those are my terms. Go to Courdain. Find my cargo. Bring it back. Do that, and I will give you what you need to leave my island alive and airborne.”[/color] His smile returned in full, bright and dangerous beneath the fractured light of his makeshift throne room. [color=#8FFFC3]“And before any of you ask what the cargo is, I will spare us all the tedium of pretending I intend to answer.”[/color] His eyes glittered. [color=#8FFFC3]“The person I am sending with you will identify it once you find it.”[/color] [Color=tan]“Very well then.”[/color] Malik’s expression had not changed with Ravic's unveiling of the terms. His voice, however, held the weight of authority, steady yet bold. He took half a step forward and placed a firm hand on Phia’s shoulder. The moment their eyes met, Malik gave her a nod. [Color=tan]“Calm yourself, [i]half-breed[/i]. This is not the moment for action,”[/color] He calmly scolded in a whisper before turning back to the prince, who was staring back at him with eyebrows raised and the most satisfied grin on his face.  Phia’s expression twisted into confusion, and also clear offense. [color=F97FCA] “Half-breed...?”[/color] She repeated audibly, drawing the word out slowly. For a second, she wondered if she had misunderstood—but no, the meaning was in the way he had said it.  She had heard that tone before, not from her people, but from wolves when they decided prey animals were beneath them. Her arms folded tightly around herself, amber eyes lifting back to him with wounded anger. As the wolf listened to the prince detail his terms, he would take notice of Malik leaning close to Phia. Finding the act queer, he tuned his ears to the tanned elf. Initially appearing as if attempting to calm Phia’s temper, but the condescending tone towards the mention of half-breed had been rudely uncalled for, earning a small growling huff, glowering at the man’s attitude. [Color=tan]“A crew unwilling to return speaks loudly of this Courdain.”[/color] His eyes slightly narrowed. [Color=tan]“Yet you still expect success from strangers with less knowledge of this island than your own lot.”[/color] Now Malik folded his arms loosely behind his back, pacing opposite Ravic. [Color=tan]“Either you truly are desperate, Prince…”[/color] Malik let the silence add weight. [Color=tan]“Or you believe us more capable than your own people. Either way, we will take this bargain. We agree to your terms, Prince,”[/color] Malik decided at the cease of his pacing. Phia’s expression intensified. This man had joined them merely hours ago and he dared to speak for them all as if he were their leader, as if he had any [i]right[/i] to decide their fates for them. The thought bristled under her skin, and she could not help but snap lowly in his direction, [i][color=F97FCA] “Do not speak for us, Malik.”[/color][/i] She could say no more as the prince spoke up to reply rather quickly. Menzai continued to glower and bristle at the tanned elf, his initial opinions of the man proving wrong. Where he once thought him respectful, he showed disdain for half-bloods, then he deems himself the group’s leader with a continued boldness to speak as their mouth. A right never given nor earned, as he was but a mere stranger who seemed to act as if he knew them. Again, sweet Phia voiced the shared sentiment and chose to leave it at that for now. This was best settled later; the wolf would settle this issue one way or another.  [color=#8FFFC3]“I do not wish to paint you as a fool, Tairnadal, but you misunderstand my words.”[/color] Prince Dane remarked with joy as his eyes scanned the others in the group before falling back onto Malik as he continued his words.  [color=#8FFFC3]“Clearly, you are the leader of these people, so let me clarify to you. I do not have a crew that is unwilling to return to Courdain.”[/color] He stated as he approached Malik directly and stopped barely a foot from the elf. [color=#8FFFC3]“There is not a crew on this island nor any in Lhazaar that would purposefully sail there at all. It is known by all here that such a place is best avoided… The ship carrying my cargo did not intend to be anywhere near that island. It was a storm that swept them to Courdain, and I am not willing to give up what was lost due to such a storm. Superstitions be damned. Traditions be damned. If you will do what I ask in exchange for repairs, then let us catch two fish with one spear. If not, then you and yours will need to find your own way off my island.”[/color]  The Prince reached a hand out and rested it gently on Malik’s face, the smell of brine and the very sea itself strong on his flesh as though he were one with the waters. [color=#8FFFC3]“I will not lie, I do very much like [i]most of you[/i]… But there is not one of you who is not expendable to me. Though that does not mean I wish for you to fail. Quite the opposite, in fact.”[/color] [Color=tan]“My previous words still hold true.”[/color] Smoothly, Malik guided Ravic's hand away from his face. [Color=tan]“We understand each other.”[/color] The elf finished with an affirmative nod. Prince Dane offered a cocky nod, but his smug expression was one that questioned Malik’s final statement.  Meiyu’s laugh cut through the tense standoff. It was a sudden, cascading hiss that sounded entirely wrong and unnerving. The eerie sound echoed off the giant rib bones above, cold and completely devoid of warmth. She advanced, golden eyes glinting, and dismissed Malik’s authority with a flick of her wrist—casual, but edged with contempt. For the moment, she had the Prince’s full attention.  [color=7DBC89]“The Tairnadal speaks for himself and perhaps the others here, but not for me,”[/color] she murmured. The fate of the airship and its survivors meant nothing; she had shadowed this group through the jungle for one reason alone—to carve a way off this forsaken rock. The promise of a salvaged sky-boat was as empty to her as the bones overhead, as were the threats to the survivors' lives. Her smirk curled back, all venom and edge, as she fixed the Prince with a predator’s gaze. [color=7DBC89]“A cursed island crawling with things in the fog—now that’s a hunger I might indulge. But your bargain is beneath me. I am no one’s errand girl, Ravic. If I set foot in Courdain, it would be to see what haunts make your pirates beg for mercy, not to chase after your broken trinkets. I’ll find my own way off this island.”[/color] Prince Dane simply smiled a crooked grin at her boldness as he waited to see if any others had the tenacity to speak up.  Corin raised a brow at his compatriots. Specifically, Malik and Meiyu, whose choice of words made him see the pair in a different light. But nonetheless, he stepped forward to Phia’s other side, a firm pat on her shoulder as he passed her and laid that same hand on the prince. The sound of the snaketress's hissing laugh made his ears flick uncomfortably as she spoke of no interest in aiding or getting involved. It may have added to his frustrations, but he was hardly amiss to have her go, as a deadly snake like her would bring an unneeded risk of potential backstabbing at the first sign of better opportunity. Her presence mixed with the fog made the hairs on the back of his neck stand with a discomforting shudder. Hardly surprising, albeit perturbing, she showed such callous indifference to the hostages, though assassins weren’t accustomed to such compassion, much as the devious captain who saw them as nothing more than expendable tools. He could not blame nor be mad at the woman; such things were taught as a weakness and self-survival of the utmost importance. With a small, amiable shake of the head, he turned his attention to Corin, who had chosen to step forward.  Phia’s amber eyes slid toward Corin at the feeling of his touch. As he passed, she caught his hand and squeezed it gently, and briefly, before letting go. There was no ill intent, but he was sure there’d be a reaction all the same. So he met the man with an earnest smile while keeping that hand against his shoulder. [color=#6C2DC7]” You’re right. It does seem simple. Get a shiny artifact, have your man identify it, and we get our airship, our people, as well as free and safe passage out of your neck of the sea.”[/color] Corin paused, only removing his hand. [color=#6C2DC7]” But that does beg one little concern. Most of us have likely never helmed a ship before.”[/color] He turned back to the group. [color=#6C2DC7]” Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.”[/color] Corin waved his hand dramatically. [color=F97FCA] “I have not.”[/color] The wolf responded with a curt, clarifying shake of the head. Jungles offered little need for sailing lessons.  [color=#6C2DC7]” So aside from your chosen man, who I pray to the gods has some sea legs, how exactly is this setting us up for anything other than spectacular failure?”[/color] Phia had been troubled by the proposition, to say the least. The prince spoke of this Island of Courdain as though it were not an island at all, but a beast that consumed every being foolish enough to cross into his territory. The threat had not been well hidden beneath his words, not toward the passengers, and certainly not toward them. She was not sure he had ever truly meant to give them the right to leave at all. It felt as if he simply wanted to throw a few expendable strangers into the hungry thing’s mouth, perhaps only to see if it choked.  Meiyu’s answer had merit, though it was clear from her words that the only life that truly mattered to her was her own. Phia could not feel that way. She could not move forward knowing she had abandoned the other passengers to the prince’s “hospitality,” whatever that meant.  But the important question was the one Corin had asked. How were they even meant to survive such a quest?  [color=F97FCA]“Corin is correct to question you,”[/color] Phia interjected. Ravic turned to listen, allowing his eyes to explore the woman’s face as she spoke. [color=F97FCA]“If all who have ventured near this place have vanished, then how are we meant to survive it? Your threat holds less weight if our choice is only to die now… or die later.”[/color] This concern drew Malik’s attention to her, and though he did not address her, his stern scowl might as well have been ordering her to cease her talking. On a fluttering, gentle breeze, the snowy-draped wolf had appeared at Phia’s right side. A tender touch of clawed fingers brushed her shoulder. A low, rumbling warning growl as Menzai scowled fiercely at Malik with matching feral intensity; the slightest hint of sharp teeth hinting to silence his trap lest he find that insulting tongue of his ripped out. He allowed it to slide once, no more.”[color=ee82ed] Ignore him, sweet Phia; whatever his qualms with you, we will deal with it later.” His words were a low, cooling whisper both for her and himself.  For now, our priorities are to save the hostages and regain the ship.  To do that…[/color]” Pausing with a huffed sigh, turning his burning glare to the prince, the snarling beast rankling beneath the surface.”[color=ee82ed] For now, we must play along, but rest assured, by the end, the prince’s game will be his folly. He will come to regret mistaking us for meager toys to toss about in his own childish amusement.[/color]” The wolf assured the half-elf, hating being forced to be at anyone’s whims and pirates especially so.  Arya had tried to stay quiet. She had her head hung and hidden in the shadows of her hood, her hands gripping her cloak, her breathing as even as she could make it, but the words kept coming—property, weak, misbehave, dog, half-breed—one after another until she felt like there was no room in her body for the rising stress. This good-for-nothing Prince was likely a culprit of the horrors she had witnessed. How could she sit here bargaining with a Prince when her family was in peril? Her stomach churned, and bile rose in her throat.  [color=7998CE]“Malik…”[/color] Her voice was soft at first as it escaped her. She paused as if she was surprised she had spoken, then finally continued, [color=7998CE]“...You only just came to us this morning. You can speak for yourself, but not for everyone here. We need time to speak together, privately, before anyone accepts or refuses anything.”[/color]  She hadn't even met his eyes as she had spoken. She swallowed, then forced herself to look toward Ravic and stared at his forehead instead of his face because she thought she might lose her bravery if she met his eyes. [color=7998CE]“Prince Dane, none of us meant to come here. Threatening people who survived a crash does not make this a fair bargain. You may say the passengers are safe now, but we have no way of knowing that will remain true once we leave. Words are just that–words, and actions speak louder than them.”[/color]  Her gaze flickered briefly toward Menzai, then Phia. She wanted to shield them from this horror, but there was no way to do so. A protectiveness for those two, including Bastion, rose inside of her like a fire. [color=7998CE]“Menzai did not deserve to be called that, nor did Phia deserve what Malik called her either. We should be able to speak about this without insulting each other.”[/color]  Her breath caught, and her hands trembled. The room seemed to tilt beneath her. How had she not fainted yet? Stella's talons dug into her shoulder as the eagle sensed her fear, but remained still and hidden in her cloak. [color=7998CE]“Please… we need a moment before making decisions.”[/color] Arya lowered herself down, pressing her head into her hands as she tried to breathe. [color=#8FFFC3]“So the girl can speak after all…”[/color] Prince Dane declared dramatically as he stepped into stride towards her. He raised his hands as if to show the group that he meant no ill will as he approached the girl with starlight in her skin. [color=#8FFFC3]“And here I thought you nothing more than just a coward. But even I can be wrong from time to time.”[/color] He said with glee as he held his gaze on her, hands still in the air.  [color=#8FFFC3]“But you’re wrong, girl. You are all wrong. I have not insulted you, nor have I threatened anyone. I have spoken a few harsh truths, and yes, I called the shifter a hound, but that came from a place of irony… not malevolence.”[/color] He explained from his knavish point of view. [color=#8FFFC3]“I am not forcing anyone here to die; in fact, I am the reason you are all alive in the first place. There were some here that wanted to go…well…another direction after you landed in our laps. I held them at bay. I paid for your safety, and I have offered you an opportunity to scratch my [i]very itchy[/i] back in exchange for me doing the same for you.”[/color] Turning his back to Arya, Prince Dane let his eyes meet each and every one of them that were willing to meet his gaze as he walked back to the edge of his throne steps, where he lowered himself to sit upon the bottom step with all the urgency of an absolutely unbothered man.  [color=#8FFFC3]“I am sorry if you expected things to be easy. I weep for you if you had hoped for someone to swoop in, gift you thousands of gold in repairs, and get you all on your way with a kiss and a pat on the ass. But you landed here, in my domain, in a den of bloody fucking pirates, and you complain about our hospitality. About my terms of agreement.”[/color]  It was in that moment that an Elvish man with faint ashen skin materialized next to the Prince, leaning down to whisper something in his sovereign’s ear. Dane’s eyes lit up with joy once again as the words of his mage loosened his clenched jaw. The Prince looked upwards to a seemingly abandoned balcony and motioned to someone who wasn’t there, tapping the side of his temple and then pointing to the North with a grin. He then nodded towards that same balcony as though someone had asked him a question. His gaze fell to the floor as he refocused his attention on the group, eyes raising to meet them once more, but with a level of intensity that was new.   [color=#8FFFC3]“Do you not understand how generous I am being? I could ask for so much more, yet all I am asking for is a little help.”[/color] His eyes slowly moved around the room as he continued. [color=#8FFFC3]“I could have the others in this room peel those gemstones that you each bear from your very flesh if I wanted. Do you realize that you shine like fucking stars in a black sky to my mages? The magic spilling from you all is so prevalent that it’s almost fucking humorous. And yet I did not even bring them up. Have I not been a reasonable host? Hmmm, I’m starting to grow bored with you all.”[/color]  Standing, he ascended the steps back to his pirate throne, took his seat once again, and gripped the hilt of his sword. [color=#8FFFC3]“In two hours, there will be a small ship off the southernmost dock in this city. Everything will be taken care of for you; all you need to do is show up. If you do, and you take the risk of Courdain… I will see to it that your ship is repaired, whether or not you return. On my word as a man, a sailor, and a prince. If you decide that it’s not worth the risk, I will give you three days to find your own way off my island before I lift the orders of protection that have kept you safe since the moment you landed. These are my final terms…My final generosity. Get the fuck out of my throne room.”[/color]  As if summoned by those final words, more figures began to materialize throughout the chamber. Mages, guards, pirates, and cutthroats stepped out of empty air, slipped from shadowed alcoves, or appeared where there had been nothing but broken light a moment before. By the time the last figure revealed himself directly between the group and the Prince’s throne, nearly two dozen bodies had filled the room, each of them watching with dangerous eyes. The message was clear enough in the sudden press of bodies, in the hands resting near weapons, in the mages whose eyes still seemed fixed on the strange light of the gemstones beneath your skin. The audience was over. Whatever private conversation you had asked for, you would not be having it beneath Ravic Dane’s throne. You were escorted from the room, down the long hallways of Seadragon Keep, and all the way back out into the salt-heavy air without another word from the Prince. Behind you, the doors closed with a groan of old wood and iron, sealing away the throne room, the rib bones, the pirates, and the smiling man who had just called his threat generosity. Only then were you left with the wind, the stink of the harbor, and the weight of two hours to make your choice. [/color]