Warf Tavern

As far as celebrations went, there were very few that could topple that of a pirates party, but then again there were very few that wished to try to topple such a thing. While those of the Dothraki found weddings boring if there were not at least 3 deaths, a pirates was boring unless every man walked away either drunk or without their gold. Returning to a ship without booze and with coin often had someone swimming after a ship for a couple days. So far the crew of The Wraith were plowing through their coin purses and reserves at a rate even a gambler on a losing streak would be proud of, so to speak.

Having overtaken a small tavern in the corner of the port city Dragonstone, a place that they usually would have avoided, but tonight it was a cause for celebration. The ship was anchored within a cove not too far from Dragonstone but in a location even the locals would have a hard time learning of it's existence. Sometimes being a pirate came with a few back door privileges and locations found centuries before and handed down from crew to crew.

Even though it was pretty obvious who the group that was giving such a small tavern owner a large amount of coin this night, the guards of the city rarely came to that section of Dragonstone, and so long as they did not cause too much trouble, the pirates of The Wraith were safe to drink until they collapsed. The sun was on it's way to meet the horizon as the evening was drawing to a close, yet the festivities within the taverns was only increasing. Another shout rang out as yet another round of booze was ordered and as they arrived at the table, one individual, clad mostly in black, an eye patch upon his right eye and a face that had yet to see so much as a prick of stubble. This was Daemon, first mate of The Wraith, or Straga to a very select few and the captain to said pirate ship. The identity of Straga was a more closely hoarded secret than the key to a queens panties, though both were often sought, but never to any's avail.

Daemon grabbed his mug of ale, not his prefered drink, but at this point of intoxication almost everything tasted the same. Stumbling from his seat, he raised his mug to echo another toast, but before he could, a serving wench bumped him as she went past and the young lad tripped backwards and fell straight out the door and onto the street. A loud cheer and laughter roared from the tavern as Daemon lay upon his back on the damp dirt, right arm extended straight upwards with the mug and it's contents saved, not a drop spilled. The rest of his limbs though were sprawled out and his single visible eye blinked in confusion. "'EH, Where'd you take the roof mate. This can't be good for business come the rains." Though he spoke, no one within the tavern could hear him, and those without gave him a wide berth, not wishing to involve themselves with their cities more unsavoury visitors.

The tall windows in his room gave Dante an almost panoramic view of Dragonstone. He could see the crashing of the waves on the cliffs where the castle faced the water and the land that stretched beyond the keep. He and Wise often sat on the thick black stone banister of his balcony watching the flicker of torchlights start to pop up in the town as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Just like now, the owl picked away the fat remains of a rat, while he cleaned the bones of a roasted chicken. They were both fresh from a bath. Dante already ever used the metal tub in his room. He had no attendants to fill it for him or rather he had attendants that would but they spent their day keeping the entire castle function he though it selfish to have them run a bath when he could simply scrub himself clean with the natural deposits of sea salt that weathered the lines of a small cave under the castle near a naturally hot pool. So instead he requested there always be a towel and a change of clothes there for him. So he and Wise had come from the pools and thinking it would be another quiet night, Dante hadn’t bothered to dress.

There was often music and laughter coming from the taverns and small pubs that dotted the township about his worn down castle, but one particular tavern was louder and more alive than the others. A strip of chicken flesh held between his fingers, Dante pointed in the direction of the tavern. “It might be that time of year again, Wise.”

The bird flustered immediately, flapping his wings and hooting almost warningly. Dante could only chuckle. Wise just about hated Daemon. His hate wasn’t born out of any sort of personal slight, not in the sense that he had been directly to him, more in the sense that the bird acted more like jealous lover sometimes than an animal companion. Wise had fallen into Dante’s window just days after his arrival at the castle. Injured, Dante carried the small animal everywhere and they became quite close. It wasn’t long after that they came across Daemon in the town and that night, Dante disappeared. He returned two weeks later after a very…educational stay in Pentos and both the maester and Wise were fuming. Ever since, neither had really been fond of the pirate and Wise has since made a point of shunning or even puffing up for anyone that held Dante’s attention for more than a night or the completion of a task.

A young pirate and a lord as best friends is not something Dante had ever heard of. Even the stories of Stannis and his right hand, Ser Davos Seaworth didn’t make mention of any sort of friendship between the two. Stannis had ordered Ser Davos’ hand cut off for smuggling. Smuggling. The man wasn’t even a pirate and his smuggling was for Dragonstone at the time, bringing food in hard times. Dante could never see himself punishing a man for doing what no one else could do. He still considered Daemon his only human friend. They had been to whore houses together. Daemon had given Dante rum for the first time and showed him how to gamble and fight. Not swordplay or fencing or tactics, just low down dirty winner take all fighting. A pirate’s life was surely an exhilarating one, a far cry from his quiet life on Dragonstone.

“We could…” Dante started, popping the chicken in his mouth, "just go for a bit.”

Wise threw his wings up, hulking like a vulture, clearly unhappy with the suggestion.

“Just for a bit! I promise not to leave.”

The bird turned his back on Dante. He poked him in the side with a chuckle, but the owl fluttered and huff, stewing in silence for a long moment even as Dante tried to coax him out of it. Finally he turned and gave a few angry hops toward Dante, who put his hands up in surrender. “I swear, just for tonight and no leaving the island.” He was rewarded with a head bob before Wise went back to ripping at his dinner.

Grinning, Dante dressed himself then he, with Wise on his shoulder, darted out of a back door, avoiding the maester because didn’t want to have the same conversation twice, and made his way into town. His long legs didn’t take long to carry him to the tavern and he arrived just in time to see Daemon collapse into the dirt right outside of the door, his drink safely in the air. Wise made a disapproving noise as Dante reached to help his friend up. “Who needs a roof with such a glorious sky.”

Daemon's eye had closed, arm still extended as his ale still remained safe. Just as he was about to lower it and make the rather, not so clever, decision to try and drink it, which probably would have lead him to pouring it all over his face, a familiar voice filled his ears. Opening his eye again he spotted the outstretched hand as the guys words filtered through the drunken haze.

"DANNY!"

Daemon all but squealed as he took Dante's hand and allowed the overgrown wall of muscle to hoist the short pirate effortlessly to his feet. Amongst his crew, Daemon was actually on the rather tall end, not amazingly so, though still a big scrawny, yet athletically muscled from years of life aboard a ship and constant fighting. Yet, for all his height and brawn, it paled in comparison to Dante, your quintessential Baratheon.

"What would you know of the sky in your ivory towers? Unless you mean the ones in Essos. I know you got a good look at those for the two weeks you spent on your back."

The way he spoke to the abandoned Prince would normally get someone hung, but as a pirate, there was plenty of other charges on Daemon's rap sheet that would take precedence over misused titles and manners. Nudging Dante in the ribs with one elbow, Daemon tried to drink at the same time, missing his mouth as most of the liquid fell onto the ground. Looking back up at Dante, Daemon's head had to tilt back slightly.

"You're too tall." Looking to Wise then he continued. "Didn't I tell you to tell him stop growing." Of course, he never got any sort of reply from the owl, who, if Daemon wasn't mistaken, actually wanted to harm him if given half the chance. Turning it's head to the side, Wise completely ignored Daemon's presence, and in the same motion, Daemon did the same with a loud humph. "Well I never."

The mock hurt in his tone was quickly drowned by another swig of ale before he turned back to Dante again. "So, another trip to Essos? I'm sure they would love to see you again." Daemon winked, but after a second thought better of it as it completely cut off his vision. Frowning, he lifted his eyepatch and winked again, this time doing it just like a normal person would and hen afterwards replacing the eyepatch back to it's normal location again.

With a flex of his arm, Dante, or Danny as it was this time, helped the pirate to his feet and ale or rum, or whatever remained safely in the mug. He was Danny today. It was much closer to his actual name than his other nicknames had been, so that was nice. Daemon must not have been too deep into his drinking yet.

“My towers are anything but ivory.” Dante said flippantly. He chose to ignore the comment about being on his back in Essos – One, because Wise was already upset with him and two, because, well… it wasn’t all on his back.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but the pirate got into an argument with his bird. It seemed to dissipate from Daemon’s mind as soon as he turned his back from Wise because he immediately spun back around and offered to take off to Essos again. Once more before Dante could reply he had to laugh. Daemon was certainly the most entertaining person he’d ever met. With two very good eyes and no obvious worry about the strange color of either of those eyes, Dante hadn’t quite figured out the need for the eyepatch. “No more adventures across the Narrow Sea for me, at least not this time.”

An angry beak grabbed his earlobe and wouldn’t let go until Dante assured the bird that he would never again leave without him. Blood ran down the side of his neck but Wise was somewhat satisfied with that, though he still watched Daemon with narrowed eyes.

Rubbing blood off his neck, Dante half turned and motioned toward the tavern. “I didn’t come all this way to stand outside and talk about pass conquests with you.”

Daemon was polishing off the contents of his tankard as Dante argued silently with the bird on his shoulder. Once finished, it was in time to hear Dante's rebuttal to standing outside. Turning the mug upside down, holding it over his open mouth, he shook it as if it was going to release some hidden reserve into his waiting maw. Alas, to his disappointment, it did not, and with a sight he turned towards the tavern door.

"Bah, Danny, it would only take a few seconds to relive your conquests. The whores of Essos when they got their hands on you though? Their conquest would be far more tantalizing."

Daemon jabbed at him verbally, not wanting to actually do it physically in case Dante knocked him all the way too Essos without need of a ship. Damn boy was far too big. Pushing the tavern door open, Daemon offered Dante a deep, way too overly exaggerated bow with a hiccuped offer.

"Your tavern awaits your highness."

Daemon, however, was far too drunk for such a bow and quickly collapsed in on himself and landed face first onto the hard ground with a loud thud and another roar of laughter as those inside witness yet another stupid act of their first mate. Others inside that saw Dante and recognized him let out another cheer with mugs raised. The boy was always welcome amongst them, though that did not mean that they would not steal from him if ever the opportunity arose, though with Daemon always present, such an opportunity never would.

Dusting himself off, Daemon pushed himself back onto his feet. "I still don't know how you people do that bowing shit. Seems far too complicated." Kicking the door open, he moved inside this time in case he fell again, still holding it open. "Well, come on then, do you think you're royalty or something keeping us waiting." It was almost like he had knocked the last 10 seconds completely out of his mind when he hit the ground.

Dante shrugged off Daemon’s comment with a laugh, slipping past him just as he toppled himself with a bow. He also paid no attention to being called ‘Your Highness’ by the pirate because he was being mocked yet again. Somehow, the title went over better in jest than it did coming from someone attempting to be respectful to the station he didn’t feel he had. Besides, informing the masses of Dragonstone to refer to him as a Lord and not a royal made Dragonstone all the safer for his people and kept them as out of his brother’s attentions as he could manage.

Inside the tavern, the sound doubled or nearly tripled when Dante entered. The noise rolled from the pirates who were near the door and through the room. That sort of welcome always made his chest swell. Nearly everyone in Dragonstone knew him. He had tilled their farms and helped them plant. He’d help milk and slaughter cattle; once spending a day as a plow horse when one of the farmers had lost their horse and couldn’t afford a new one. He babysat a few times and had even been a midwife on two occasions. The only commoner on the little island that liked to pretend he didn’t like the young reject Prince was Uldar the smith and that didn’t bother him at all. For the most part, however, everyone knew him as personally as you could know a noble and then some. He had nothing to his name and no noble or royal entourage to keep him from getting his hands dirty, literally. It was all better than being bored in that large empty and possibly haunted castle.

Welcomed to the pirate table, Dante sat down and Wise seemed to perk up a bit at all the scraps of meat laying around. The first person to try and feed him instead of eat him, would be the new best friend he’d flaunt in front of Dante for the rest of the night, even while keeping a close eye on the boy. When Daemon finally made it into the tavern again, the shouts went up once more and the drink began to flow all too freely. The night would be remembered in a blur of songs and laughter and even a fight or two that ended with more drink.

Good vibes and the drunken haze were shattered as Dante pulled his head out of barrel of cold rain water. He gasped for air, sinking to the floor in front of the barrel. There was a half empty bottle of rum in his hand that he had no memory of acquiring. Taking a long pull from the bottle, Dante rose and looked around himself. Wise was standing on the other edge of the barrel. The night was completely pitch with the moon no bigger than a thumbnail and clouds to cover it. They weren’t in front of the Tavern anymore. The castle of Dragonstone loomed closer than it had been hours ago. They were on their way back to the castle?

Dante rubbed his face, trying to clear his head. He felt heavy and happy. His chest hurt and so did his right arm. Looking down, his shirt was torn and sagging to one side. A long bruise was forming across his chest in the imprint of a beam, but he couldn’t remember why. As if more rum would help, he took another swig and looked around to see if anyone were with him.

The night still had not broken on Dragonstone where the prince and his pirate had now somehow found themselves no where near the tavern they started their reunion. In fact, they were far closer to the castle than Daemon would ever normally wish to be, if he were ever sober enough to be wary of his surroundings and where he could, or rather, should not go. Whoever resided in the house where Dante decided to take his morning bath, had not awoke yet as the Prince went about trying to recall his nightly adventures.

As his surroundings began to form in his drunken haze, a crash echoed within the building behind him, followed by the quick swinging open of a window at the side of the small home. Through it stumbled Daemon, his pants around his knees as he worked to both climb out and pull them up in the same motion, in his mouth he held his eyepatch as one eye closed against the stark contrast of the dimly lit house and the pitch blackness of the world outside. As he finally dropped to his feet and fixed his pants, his cloak got snagged on a nail sticking from the windowsill and pulling his eyepatch from his mouth, pausing for a moment to place it back on his head, covering his right eye, he bellowed.

"Unhand me woman! I told you I'll come back when your husband is gone."

Flailing his arms about himself,, he somehow managed to inadvertently unsnag his cloak and went about adjusting the rest of himself. Stumbling his way over to Dante, he pulled the rum bottle from his hand and took a large swig of the spiced liquid.

"Not one I'd recommend you visit mate. She's got a bite to her." Saying that he rubbed his right ass cheek and winced a little. "In more ways than one. Come, we better go before her husband gets back."

It took only a few moments before they were out of sight of the house and Dragonstone around them was still dead, most of it's residents fast asleep, guards going about their routine mindlessly as the night called for them to sleep, not stay awake at ungodly hours, all of which allowed Daemon to walk with relatively no fear of being arrested. As they turned a corner to cut through one of the many alleyways that would allow them to arrive back at the Keep before the Maester woke, if he had even slept with Dante gone all night, Daemon tripped over a cobble stone, fell forward as one of his legs kicked out behind him sending his boot flying backwards.

What followed was a loud groan, but not from Daemon, from another that stood behind Dante with a dagger raised, clutching his groin where the boot had struck. Catching the wall and turning about, Daemon walked over, stumbling through his still drunken stupor and bent down to pick up his boot, paying no attention to the obvious danger. The male, dressed head to toe in black growled, raised the dagger higher and went to strike down against the mid of Daemon's back. However, when Daemon grabbed his shoe, he stood up quickly and the back of his head connected with the man's chin and sent him reeling backwards with a chipped tooth. Frowning, Daemon rubbed the back of his head and turned to Dante.

"Hey, just because you're bigger than me doesn't mean you get to hit me. Keep your big hands to yourself Danny."

Behind Daemon, the would be assassin was holding his mouth as blood trickled through his fingers, dagger clenched even tighter now in his hand as knuckles turned to white. This killer was not done and was not about to be made to look the fool by some drunken idiot. Inching towards the two again, Daemon, still seemingly oblivious, was now putting his boot back on with one hand, grumbling and mumbling in annoyance towards Dante as he rubbed the back of his head with the other hand.

As if on cue, Dante’s only friend… erhm, human friend, nearly toppled out of nearby window. His pants were down and his needless eyepatch in his mouth. Needing only to shift his body weight and being thankful for it, Dante moved to lean on the cool stone wall near where the pirate had emerged from. Candle danced inside the room on a candle that was dying out, but it was enough to see a single figure curled happily into a ball; sleeping soundly. It caused a lopsided grin to form on his drunk features, listening to Daemon accuse a nail on the window sill of being a sex hungry woman.

While Daemon put himself back together, Wise returned to Dante’s shoulder. The bird purposely landed on his sore arm and squeezed his talons into the young man’s shoulder. His neck jutted forward and gave an annoyed hoot at Daemon as if to tell him to go away.

The rum slipped from his fingers and Dante laughed, his head lulling over once more to look into the room. Pushing off the wall, he had enough wits about him to close the window before the two started to meander through the narrow little alleyways in the direction of the castle. At some point in the night this must have been their plan, because without much though about that’s where their bodies seemed to be heading. Somewhere deep in their drunken haze their brains still recalled whatever set them on this path. Normally, Daemon refused to venture further inland and away from the shady little “port” where their ship was, but something must have changed. Being that Dante knew every way and then some to get back to the castle, he ended up stumbling in front of Daemon instead of behind where he’d started.

The sound of a groan made Dante turn. He had to grip the wall of a building beside him to do it without falling, but he did it. At first he thought Daemon might have falling, as the sound of his tripping was followed by loose stone bouncing down the alley but the scene before him caused Dante to blink. Wise hooted and went up in a rush of feathers, while Dante’s drink laden brain computed the goings on. The shine of a blade was forcing him to come out of his stupor but not before Daemon stood up and knocked the man back, only to have Daemon accuse Dante of striking him.

“I’m front of y…”He started, before his brain finally started to work. The would be assassin, who had now all but forgotten his target and was hell bent on killing the pirate of sheer spite, reared back again aiming for his back. Out of sheer reflex, Dante reached out and took Daemon by the shoulder. The sound of bones cracking echoed the narrow alleyway as the pirate was whipped around his taller, broader friend and slammed into a wall… out of harm’s way.

Pushing off the wall, the arm that been holding him up, came up to catch the downward thrust of the dagger. They collided, wrist to forearm, and the killer leaned in trying to put all of his weight behind his thrust. Dante bent a little at the knees under the pressure, the dagger inches from his face. It had been close enough that if he hadn’t turned his head, he’d have a real need for that eyepatch, but instead it nicked the side of his jaw.

With a deep exhale, Dante pushed back. He and Daemon were now on the higher end of the small slope of alleyway and it was all he need to send the man stumbling back. Of course he staggered himself a bit but grabbed Daemon by the arm and pushed him on. “Move.”

With boot on and head starting to dull, Daemon stood up again and stretched his back, still grumbling but as he looked towards Dante again and saw the big oaf coming his way, Daemon put up his hands in two fists in a mock display of boxing, even going so far as to bounce a couple times on the tips of his toes.

"Round two eh, Danny? I'm ready for you this time, lad."

In all actuality, he wasn't even close to ready as Dante easily grabbed Daemon's shoulder and tossed him aside, but that wasn't all, the giant Prince had snapped the pirates collar bone in his attempt to 'save' him. As Daemon crashed against the wall, he howled in pain, grabbing his shoulder, knees weakening as his left arm hung limp by his side. As Dante battled with the assassin, Daemon was doing all he could to gather his feet back under himself again, luckily for either of them, there was such an abundant supply of alcohol in their system that the pain was quickly dulled, though the arm still remained useless and limp. When Dante turned again, Daemon held up his other hand, the only one he could still move.

"Alright, alright, you win, next round is on me, gods be damned, Danny."

The severity of the situation was still lost on Daemon, though his vision was now picking up the other person who was in the alley with them which brought another frown to his features. When Dante grabbed Daemon's still functioning arm and demanded they move, Daemon quickly pulled it from his grip.

"Hey hey, I'd still like to move one of them, mate."

Moving further into the alley, both men, while still being pursued, made their way quickly towards the castle, their attacker hot on their heels. Fishing a wooden flask from inside one of the pouches on his waist, Daemon took a long drink of the rum, emptying the contents before tossing it over his head. The flask landed just in front of the assassin who stood on it without much time to react and slipped, crashing against the stone layered earth. This gave the two ample time to disappear down two more alleys and come out at an old service entrance into the castle itself.

"I know you make friends easily Danny, most of me crew like ya, but I don't think he was one of your fans. Not that he was very good at his job anyway."

Daemon fished yet another flask from another pouch and started to drink another round of rum, this time offering it to Dante as his hand returned to his maimed shoulder with a grunt. Daemon decided it would be best to keep his intoxicated disposition a while longer, regardless of any danger they were in, if for no other reason than to keep his broken collarbone and possibly dislocated shoulder nothing more than a dull throbbing pain.

How the pirate had made it this far, for this long, Dante couldn’t guess. Granted the forgotten Prince knew a lot of his antics were purposefully but that didn’t change the fact that he seemed to have no concept of time or urgency. He really didn’t have a concept of fear either, as far as Dante could decipher, because fear is what gave men the urgency to move their fucking asses when someone was trying to kill them. Instead, Daemon was more worried about yelling at Dante than getting in gear. Of course, Dante hadn’t yet realized he’d damaged his friend while trying to save his life and the comment caused him to cock an eyebrow before they both started to stumble away from their attacker.

Pushing through the liquor in his system was adrenaline. It didn’t matter how many times Dante had almost lost his life, each new assassin was just a frightening as the last. His name day was growing closer, he should have known his life would have been in danger. Actually he knew, he just couldn’t live in fear. Slowing to halt, Dante faltered at the service gate on the side of the keep. They couldn’t go into the castle, the maester and a few maids and their children were in there. Finding shelter in the keep would put them in danger since he couldn’t be sure exactly where they all were; sleeping no doubt but he couldn’t be sure and he couldn’t take the chance.

“Huh?” His mind skimming through options, Dante hadn’t really processed what Daemon had said, but he did finally take note of his limp arm and the way he touched his shoulder. “Shit. Sorry. We can’t go in there though. We need…” His blue eyes, shining in the overcast moon light, darted around them,” to go there.”

Dante followed a pointed finger toward the rocks leading further toward the craggy shores around the back of the castle. Between the rocks were openings to small caves that led deeper under the island, some of the natural and man-made passageways led towards the town. There was enough room in those caves and passages for Dante to move freely and he knew them well enough to keep this attacker quiet and away from others.

As they stood for what seemed an hour given the prospect of the would be assassin tracking them down, Daemon unwrapped the purple, tattered and worn scarf from around his shoulders and used it as a makeshift sling for his left arm. There was enough material in the scarf for an entire outfit though it definitely was not in any sort of presentable condition. Wrapping his arm tight against his chest, Daemon grunted at the exertion and twang on pain that came with the act, but he kept as silent as he could.

Once he was satisfied, he looked up at Dante and tapped a foot impatiently before the young prince pointed towards the back of the castle and the jagged rocks there in. Looking back at Dante, Daemon had a look of 'You want me to do what now?' across his face, but Dante had his mind set and the prince was off before Daemon could offer any verbal words of disagreement. Sure, the pirate never really complained about too much, even at the fact they were being chased by a murderer, hell, Daemon was a murder by all counts, but climbing rocks and heading into who knows where with only a single arm and a person that would sooner rip off the other one in an attempt to save someone's life, well, Daemon was half tempted to take his chances with the assassin.

Taking another drink from his flask, Daemon polished off the last of his liquor and instead of stowing the container, or doing something like tossing it at the assassin, he threw it at the back of Dante's head, narrowly missing the giant oaf as the flask disappeared into the darkness of the still looming night. Moving with the prince, Daemon carefully lowered himself down into one of the caves, carved by crashing sea water over generations but seemingly sculpted into an almost livable space by human hands.

"Not exactly my ideal location for a romantic soiree Danny, but a few candles and the right bard and we could make something happen."

Behind them came the very clear grunts of not one, but two people that seemed to be traversing the same path as Dante and Daemon. Frowning, the pirate leaned backwards some and glanced out the opening they had entered to see two individuals climbing down after them. Sighing and rolling his eyes, Daemon lifted his good arm and sniffed his armpit.

"I hardly smell that bad that they guys can follow us so easily. The fuck are these friends of yours Danny, bloodhounds? They are almost as persistent as that one whore that followed you back home from Essos. Though these two are a bit better on the eyes, don't you think?"

Moving away from the entrance, Daemon made his way towards one of the spin off tunnels that lead away from their current location.

"Well your majesty? This is definitely your grounds of expertise, not my own. Lead the way."

A sharp breeze created by the seemingly abundant supply of disposable flasks that the pirate carried on his person, tickled Dante’s ear. The man had more flasks on him than assassins had daggers. Dante could understand Daemon’s annoyance at having to climb down rocks with one good arm even if he hadn’t meant to disable his friend only help him. Confidence that the inhuman amount of alcohol in Daemon’s blood at the moment kept him out of too much pain, Dante was quickly sobering under the conditions. He climbed down the rocks and stayed close as Daemon did too. The footing was much steadier inside the tunnel and they quickly came upon several divides in the path.

When Daemon spoke, Dante smirked, but didn’t reply. He wasn’t really all about their banter, just wasn’t a bantering type of guy not even outside of their current situation. The sounds of men behind them, caused him to start forward, but motion for Daemon to take a side tunnel. “Stop sniffing yourself and stay low.”

Before sidestepping in the shadow of a side path, Dante took Wise off his shoulder and sent the bird down the main tunnel. The animal earned his name well, brushing his wings along the wall causing rocks and pebbles to echo down the path. There was no pause in the assassin’s steps because of the noises created by the bird. Dante let the first one pass, locking his fingers together in front of him and waited out the small moment for the second one to pass. Stepping out from the shadows behind the second man, Dante's fist came around like a hammer to the side of his head, smashing him into the wall. He couldn't be sure of the extent of the damage he caused when the body fell limp to the floor, blood draining through the cracks of the cobble stone floor; he was too focused on the other assailant as he turned. Dante stepped around the fallen man to be sure his footed would be steady as the other man charged him, nearly knocking the wind out of him as he collided with Dante's middle. They went back down the tunnel toward the entrance a few steps until Dante's back collided with the wall. Something sharp pierced his side a split second before he lifted his still clenched fist and dislodged the man from him with a heavy blow to his back.

Taking one large step forward, Daemon disappeared into the shadow along with Dante as the owl went about its task and the two that followed them blindly took off after the sounds the owl created. At least, one of them made it to chase the bird anyway, the new comer to the hunt was dispatched by Dante with a hammer like strike against the male's head. Given the fact that just a grab from the Prince's hand to drag the pirate out of danger had basically shattered Daemons collarbone and dislocated his shoulder, to actually be hit with the intention to do damage by the giant teen was a devastating thing indeed, so much so that even Daemon inwardly winced.

Stepping out of the shadow after Dante who was preparing himself for the first attacker to return with the noise of his friend being, basically, destroyed. Leaning over the male, his face was completely shattered to the point he barely even looked human anymore. Poking the male once, then twice, there wasn't even so much as an expulsion of breath from the now still corpse. Dante had wiped him from the living world in one blow.

"Well, you won't be in the next chapter lad."

Another impact of bodies caused Daemon to turn as the remaining assassin tackled Dante, pushing him backwards, which would have made Daemon clap, if his left arm was not all but useless. When they both struck the wall, Daemon moved surprisingly quick for a man intoxicated and in pain, though fluidly he moved none the less with no wasted movement in any step or action as he gripped the male by the back of his shirt and aided in Dante's dislodging of him. The male was wounded, probably a broken rib from the punch Dante struck him with, but as the man saw his dead accomplice, his own pain was cast aside when he moved towards them once again with killer intent.

Daemon again pulled yet another flask from his pocket, taking a rather large swig and grunting as he swallowed what seemed to be a rather stiff drink. As the assassin closed in, a couple steps separating them, Daemon splashed the liquid into the man's eyes which caused him to pause and wipe it away, frowning and looking somewhat confused.

"Water?"

The tone of his voice made him sound almost annoyed, not at the fact that Daemon had splashed him, but at the fact he had splashed him with water, as if he were insulted or outraged that a pirate would ever carry water on his person. With a shrug of his one remaining good shoulder, Daemons demeanor had completely changed as he walked towards the other, ignoring Dante's presence for the first time.

"The captain of The Wraith can't always be drunk, mate."

The man's eyes widened and his features almost paled as Daemon spoke through gritted teeth, his presence almost crushing the would be assassin who seemed to shrink backwards the closer the pirate came. Backing up so much that he tripped over his friends corpse, crashing onto his ass on the stone cave floor and still trying to scurry backwards.

"S-Straga."

The man sounded like a child now, as he stared into the single glowing crimson eye of the Dread Captain who, with a flick of his useable wrist had unsheathed his cutlass and opened the man's throat in a single slash. Clutching his throat, gargling in his own blood, Daemon, now revealed as Straga, stood tall, head forward and only his eye slowly cast down as he watched the light of the man's eyes flicker and die slowly. The entire aura surrounding the once bumbling drunkard had changed, burned from existence and replaced with one of malice, hate and death, though still he stared at the corpse of the man as blood dripped from the tip of his sword.

The man didn’t so much as fall away from Dante as he was tossed into the open foyer between the paths but he wasn’t so easily deterred and quickly charged again. He wasn’t the only one confused about the contents of the flask. Standing behind Daemon, Dante’s face twisted into confusion. As Wise returned to his shoulder, even the bird seemed baffled to find out the container only had water. Further confusion ensued with Daemon’s rebuttal. ‘Captain?’ The crew of the infamous Wraith were not shy about sharing their status. You had to be the best and the baddest to be part of that crew. To say the individuals were proud would be the understatement of the year. They boasted such grand and wild stories no one ever took them seriously. There was, however, one thing that everyone knew as fact about The Wraith and its crew – their captain was possibly the most mysterious man on the sea.

The Dread Captain Straga had his songs sung long before Dante or Daemon’s father’s father. He was myth, a legend and this point not even a man. People said that he and his ship were ghosts, able to disappear from the Narrow Sea and appear in Sunset Sea a moment later. The ship sailed with perpetual cloud of fog that crept around other ships like a hand in the night and choked the life from the crew leaving their spoils for the taking. Crew members of the Wraith boasted that the ship had been sunk a hundred times over and a hundred times again and resurrected by the Drowned God himself. The members never aged, they never changed, supposedly, as many of them claimed to be hundreds of years old. Dante knew that to be a lie. He and Daemon… Straga… whoever he was, had been friends since the prince came to Dragonstone. Daemon wasn’t more than year older than him. He’d seen him grow, seen him get older. How could he be the captain? Not just any captain THE captain.

With both he and Wise still sporting looks of confusion, they watched as the self-proclaimed captain of the Wraith slit a man’s throat. The look on his face was not the same as the one of the man Dante knew. Granted he’d never seen Daemon outrightly kill anyone before either. Usually Daemon stumbled and tripped and fell or fumbled and people just sort of ended up dead around him. This man with his one good arm wielding a bloody blade was someone else entirely, it was almost frightening. Almost.

After a long moment of silence and deciding his brain wouldn’t rest until got some answers, Dante pushed off the wall feeling a sting in his side again. His hand went to it and blood squelched through his shirt and fingers but the gash wasn’t deep enough to get his finger in so it wasn’t anything to fuss about. “Captain of the Wraith huh? You old fuck. When were you going to tell me? Never? How does it work? You die and come back younger only to do it all over again?”