Day 1
Rubbish, the thought wafted through the Roegadyn's head.
Daegsatz Traggblansyn considered himself to be a simple man. A Sea Wolf who enjoyed all of the simple and elegant things a typical Sea Wolf did: sailing, the sea, the company of his crew, a strong drink, and the occasional skull gushing with a fountain of blood generated by a magnanimous axe wound. Politics, schemes, and conspiracies were far above him. That was not to say that he was necessarily stupid, but the Roegadyn often left such things to Nero. The lad was smart, and far too ambitious for his own good, but as long as Daegsatz Traggblansyn could continue to enjoy his lot in life, that would be enough.
He rubbed his forehead. How did it come to this? He'd promised Vail before the latter went out to sea that he'd be be Nero's guardian, and that hadn't changed. Yet those circumstances had managed to land the Sea Wolf into an Ul'dahn gaol. What was supposed to be a routine drop had turned into a bloody skirmish that left Liam and Martin dead and Daegsatz himself captured. His neck was still stiff from the wound, but the conjury had helped quite a bit with the aching. Daegsatz held his fingers up, counting the number of days it would take before the landsickness set in. Nero, the daft boy, had insisted that there was no such thing as landsickness. Daegsatz considered his captain both lucky and unlucky that he was not born a proper Roegadyn.
The cell was simple and featureless. A narrow cot lay tucked against a bed. A chamber pot that was cleaned out once a week lay at the foot of the cot. A drain had been fitted into floor of the cell, the rusty colour of the grates granting leave to unfortunate implications. Daegsatz shook his head, his ash-grey mane of hair seeming to convulse when he did, as he began to scratch at the granite floor with his massive fingers.
The whole situation is rubbish.
Rubbish, the thought wafted through the Roegadyn's head.
Daegsatz Traggblansyn considered himself to be a simple man. A Sea Wolf who enjoyed all of the simple and elegant things a typical Sea Wolf did: sailing, the sea, the company of his crew, a strong drink, and the occasional skull gushing with a fountain of blood generated by a magnanimous axe wound. Politics, schemes, and conspiracies were far above him. That was not to say that he was necessarily stupid, but the Roegadyn often left such things to Nero. The lad was smart, and far too ambitious for his own good, but as long as Daegsatz Traggblansyn could continue to enjoy his lot in life, that would be enough.
He rubbed his forehead. How did it come to this? He'd promised Vail before the latter went out to sea that he'd be be Nero's guardian, and that hadn't changed. Yet those circumstances had managed to land the Sea Wolf into an Ul'dahn gaol. What was supposed to be a routine drop had turned into a bloody skirmish that left Liam and Martin dead and Daegsatz himself captured. His neck was still stiff from the wound, but the conjury had helped quite a bit with the aching. Daegsatz held his fingers up, counting the number of days it would take before the landsickness set in. Nero, the daft boy, had insisted that there was no such thing as landsickness. Daegsatz considered his captain both lucky and unlucky that he was not born a proper Roegadyn.
The cell was simple and featureless. A narrow cot lay tucked against a bed. A chamber pot that was cleaned out once a week lay at the foot of the cot. A drain had been fitted into floor of the cell, the rusty colour of the grates granting leave to unfortunate implications. Daegsatz shook his head, his ash-grey mane of hair seeming to convulse when he did, as he began to scratch at the granite floor with his massive fingers.
The whole situation is rubbish.
