Headed by a Snake

With no enemies to interrogate, Tycondrius began back towards his camp. He was looking forward to a somewhat late lunch.

As a matter of course, Krysaos tagged along, talking aloud the whole way-- mostly to himself.

"--so what I guess I'm trying to say is... I'm comin' with you, guy!"

...Tycon had to take a moment to realize that Krysaos was speaking directly to him.

It wasn't a question.

Krysaos had no shame-- of that, he was certain.

Tycon was tempted to take offense on a matter of principle... but in his last quest, his short temper had found him beating one of his close allies to a near-death state.

...When the event was brought to his attention, he realized he had... anger issues. Such a flaw had the potential to undermine his professionalism, and thus, he wanted to practice calm and understanding.

At any rate, everything had worked out in the end.

The former Captain of the... Sugar-titted Siren may have attempted to redirect the sahuagin's ire against him... but Tycon was never in any danger to begin with.

He did, however, want the man to provide an explanation for his actions.

"You tried to get me killed," Tycon smirked.

"It was all according to plan!" Krysaos grinned, "They let down their guards, didn't they? I'm a gods-damned genius."

"Oh?" Tycon pursed his lips, mulling over the recent situation, "We were outnumbered. You, yourself, only survived by the skin of your teeth."

Krysaos absentmindedly rubbed his side, wincing at the pain. It was likely the injury would bruise.

"Hey, come on, Tycon! Don't be like that!"

Tycon raised an eyebrow, "And if I say no?"

Krysaos dramatically threw himself onto the sand, folding his hands together and begging on his knees.

"Hey, listen-- I did it because I believed in us, man!"

He jammed a thumb at his chest, "You and me, against the world, Tycon! Two honorable men of the sea, raging against the constructs of society! Rebels! Heroes, even!! Allies until the end of time!"

Tycon chuckled at the sheer absurdity of it. That sounded nothing like an apology, "Get up, Krysaos."

"So whaddya say?" Krysaos stood heroically... and as he smiled fully and unabashedly.

His white-pearl teeth gleamed in the sun as if to emphasize his trustworthiness.

He offered his hand forward, still wet with sahuagin blood, "We square?"

There was something about that man's smile... perhaps laced with a peculiar brand of subtle magic, that made him difficult to dislike.

"Hah!" Tycon loosed a laugh and he clasped Krysaos' wrist, "Very well. Friends, then."

"Us against the world," Krysaos shook.

"Indeed. Us against the world," Tycon agreed.

His new friend's words struck a familiar chord. It did sometimes feel that the fates worked against him, throwing him into one horrid situation after another.

No matter what the future had in store, it was useless to lie down, cover his eyes, and bemoan his situation. He would rise up, weapon in hand, and defy the heavens and hells themselves if he was forced to.

...

⁆ Captain's Log, Date XXXX ⁅

⁆ So there I was, stranded on a deserted island with some guy I just met. ⁅

⁆ And then... the minions of the Sea God emerged from the black depths. They came for me and my poor, terrified sidekick. ⁅

⁆ We were surrounded. ⁅

⁆ That meant the poor bastards had nowhere to run. ⁅

⁆ I told the new guy to shut the hells up and fight until the last drop of blood was drained from his slightly effeminate body. ⁅

⁆ Me and Tycon, we fought side-by-side, back-to-back, MANO E MANO, until the last of them were slain! ⁅

⁆ I, Krysaos, the scourge of the eastern seas, raised my stolen sword, the victor amongst the dozens and dozens of creatures who dared question me. ⁅

⁆ My sidekick survived too-- so that was a plus. ⁅

⁆ I may have lost my ship and my crew... but f*ck those guys. I'll get another ship. I'll get a better crew! I'll get my title back as the most dreaded Captain of the twenty-two seas... starting with Tycon as my second-in-command! ⁅

Krysaos looked over to the green-haired youth with sharp, yellow eyes.

The guy didn't seem to be a pushover by any means... and it took a bit of coaxing to get him to come along.

But he was useful. Really useful.

He was calm under pressure, an admittedly decent fighter... and he probably had a way to get off the island.

"I'll tell you what, friend," He grinned, "You can be part of my crew! I'm a Captain, after all, known all across the Eastern States-- lived my whole life there!"

"Your name is Krysaos," Tycon mused. "That is a decidedly Tyrion name... as is mine."

Krysaos felt his mouth twitch. It seemed like the guy needed a bit more convincing.

"Aha!" His grin fell to a grimace... but only for a moment, "I meant to say... I lived my whole life at sea! The seas around the Eastern States and the Holy Country!"

Tycon wasn't an idiot-- but that didn't dissuade Krysaos in the least.

He cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together, readying himself for telling the most pathetic story Tycon'd ever heard... the story of his life.

...

Tycon had never met a man who, upon their initial meeting, opted to detail their entire life story.

Krysaos spoke of how he was kidnapped as a child and forced into slavery on a privateering vessel. He fought back against his masters, took control of the ship and its crew, and by his own words, became known as the scourge of a varying number of seas.

Out of... jealousy, the sea god engineered his crew's mutiny. They threw him off the ship, though due to macabre tradition, they granted him a sea-logged pistol, a small watertight barrel of Orkish sugar, and a single bullet.

An excessive portion of Krysaos' tales were plagiarized... made up of old sea legends he'd previously heard serving with the Marines and Sailors of the Kingdom's Royal Navy.

Tycon considered alerting the gentleman that he had heard those stories before...

However, it was moderately interesting... and Krysaos was enjoying himself.

His infectious mirth, along with his foolish, wide grin, made the mundane trek back to camp far more pleasant.

...Tycon had had worse traveling companions.