"Y-you! You can't do this!" The sailor was a pitiful, cringing thing, and his sputtering only solidified that. "They'll come looking for me! I'm- I'm an officer of the fleet! The Legion of Dusk!" Even as he spoke those words, meant to give him some sort of importance, some status to make us think twice, all that we could hear was the fear in his voice; the panic setting in as he slowly began to realise that there was no escape. No leniency to be had here. No mercy.

The Captain leaned lazily on the rigging, crossed his arms, and his easy smile played upon his lips, fangs glinting in the moonlight.

"We don't fly the Dusk Legion's flags, nor do we deal with their kind."

"Except, of course, like this. Toss him overboard, boys." He looked back at the captive.

"Keelhaul him."

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