Bernice
Valkrin Farensun, Kingslayer
Stormalong, South Feyshore


It had been years since his departure from Marin, and from the look of Stormalong not much had changed. His one brown eye scanned the port, the amber glass in his left eye socket rolling as he gazed. 

"Those are some nasty scars you have." The owner of this small vessel continuously chirped about everything he saw on their journey. "Say, how'd you get them scars?"

"Wrong place, wrong time." The match in Valkrin's hand fizzled as he lit his last Terresolian cigar. "But I ain't paying you for small talk. Get me to the port." A small gleam came from the satchel at his feet, it was the crown of Vronti Kelwynd, a keepsake of his most famous battle. Covering the satchel and stepping onto the dock in Stormalong, Valkrin paid the boat man and turned to face the city. He made sure the spear and crown of the late king of Terresol were secured to him before beginning his walk into Stormalong.
Alex
Lady Angelica Stafford
Stormalong, South Feyshore

"So you're telling me you just let a ship slip past your blockade?" Angelica questioned, and watched as the man before her gave a sullen nod. Annoyance dripped from her voice as she continued, not even trying to hide it. Marcus hadn't been sleeping through the night once more, something that was becoming more and more frustrating with every passing day, and she was well over the joys of motherhood. How Anyanka had dealt with it, she didn't know, though the redhead insisted it got easier once they were out of the first few years. 

"And you're telling me that instead of sending a smaller ship to catch it immediately, you _somehow_ let it dock and it's passenger is now undocumented on South Feyshorian soil?"

"The captain of the vessel gave a description, but apparently the visitor didn't give a name when he chartered the ship."

A description wouldn't help much if the man was a biological weapon sent from Terresol or Gods knows where to take South Feyshore down another notch. The last thing they needed was to see Stormalong weakened. 

"Anything significant enough to catch the man within the next few hours if given the citizenry a notice?" 

"An amber glass eye and King Maith's symbol branded on his face." It made Angelica swallow, and her brow knit together. 

"_King Bradai Maith?_" She questioned once more, and the nod made her tense up. "Find the man, bring him to Stormalong at once. That's Valkrin Farensun."
Bernice
Valkrin Farensun, Kingslayer
Stormalong, South Feyshore


The guard here was shifty, uneasy. Every one of them eyed him, moving together to subtly create a sort of human net amongst the crowd. A rugged looking man approached him first, unsheathing the blade from his hip. "Valkrin Farensun, you are hereby ordered to cease any and all activity in Stormalong and accompany us to the keep." 

"Is that what I'll do?" Valkrin grinned, teeth clenching that cigar. Typically, the pirate would've started swinging, but he was far outnumbered. Though he was referred to as 'The Madman of Terresol', he was no idiot. 

After an unprofessionally rough arrest, Valkrin had been quarantined and examined. It took a good bit of swearing and threats to make the examiner put the crown and spear back in his possessions, but they were nonetheless taken to be presented to whoever had him arrested. 

Now the Kingslayer stood, hands bound and chained to the floor.