"I know, dammit. I know. Look, I bought him a bed. Sheets and everything." Dogberry paced around in the room he had rented from his friend and physician, Rhianna Oruissi. He was talking on a linkpearl, navigating crates and chests set around the room in various states of unpacking.
"Red. They're red," he said, growing increasingly frustrated. "It's a Maelstrom--I KNOW he wants to be an Immort-- That's not the point, OK? It's something to sleep on. What, I gotta get him Sultansworn bedsheets and Raubahn branded underpants? Twelve's sake!"
Dogberry sat down on his couch, and began the process of detaching his legs. After some time they become uncomfortable.
"Why else would I rent a place in Lavender Beds? The whole reason I got this place was so I can be near him. Just give'm t'me every couple of days out of th'week." A pause while he listened. He deflated visably.
"I know, I'm tryin' to work up to it. I figure I'll tell him once he gets to know me. He ain't dumb, he might even figure it out on his own." Another pause.
"No, I'm not trying to get out of telling him. I'll tell him. We can tell him together as a family. Just let me at least build up somethin' with the boy."
"No, I'm not--Bloody hells, y'think after th'life I led I want that boy anywhere near a ship? I'm hopin' th'boy displays an aptitude for woodworkin', or cookin', or hells, haberdashery. I'd rather he make a decent life sellin' hats than takin' after me." The legs were off now, and he began massaging what was left of his legs.
"Hells, Styrseig, I'm sittin' here, rubbin' the aches out of a set of stumps what used t'be my legs. I've faced foes th'likes of which haunt m'dreams t'this day. Y'know what I fear more'n that? Livin' with the thought that I've not done right by m'own son."
"It ain't too late, dammit. We're both still breathin'. What I did, I can't change, but I can be better."
"No, I didn't write that down. I'm bein' serious here. Can I please, just spend some time with m'own son? Seig? Y'there? Dammit."
Dogberry threw the linkpearl across the room. It bounced off the wall and fell into the bath.
"Red. They're red," he said, growing increasingly frustrated. "It's a Maelstrom--I KNOW he wants to be an Immort-- That's not the point, OK? It's something to sleep on. What, I gotta get him Sultansworn bedsheets and Raubahn branded underpants? Twelve's sake!"
Dogberry sat down on his couch, and began the process of detaching his legs. After some time they become uncomfortable.
"Why else would I rent a place in Lavender Beds? The whole reason I got this place was so I can be near him. Just give'm t'me every couple of days out of th'week." A pause while he listened. He deflated visably.
"I know, I'm tryin' to work up to it. I figure I'll tell him once he gets to know me. He ain't dumb, he might even figure it out on his own." Another pause.
"No, I'm not trying to get out of telling him. I'll tell him. We can tell him together as a family. Just let me at least build up somethin' with the boy."
"No, I'm not--Bloody hells, y'think after th'life I led I want that boy anywhere near a ship? I'm hopin' th'boy displays an aptitude for woodworkin', or cookin', or hells, haberdashery. I'd rather he make a decent life sellin' hats than takin' after me." The legs were off now, and he began massaging what was left of his legs.
"Hells, Styrseig, I'm sittin' here, rubbin' the aches out of a set of stumps what used t'be my legs. I've faced foes th'likes of which haunt m'dreams t'this day. Y'know what I fear more'n that? Livin' with the thought that I've not done right by m'own son."
"It ain't too late, dammit. We're both still breathin'. What I did, I can't change, but I can be better."
"No, I didn't write that down. I'm bein' serious here. Can I please, just spend some time with m'own son? Seig? Y'there? Dammit."
Dogberry threw the linkpearl across the room. It bounced off the wall and fell into the bath.
![[Image: BZneHYK.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/BZneHYK.jpg)
No Gods and Precious Few Heroes
