[Episode] Secure in Silence

Episode Details:

The Pink Esteem was an ornate, flashy, and above all else, swift ship. For this evening, however, it was still and peaceful in the dark waters. Hanging from every available vantage point on large boat was a bright candle obscured by translucent glass. Swimming along the neat deck, between these gentle lights were dozens of party guests, some drunk, some dancing, some bored and all important to the island of Illusia, whose shores were only a hundred or so meters away from the bobbing hull.

Issen Hachiyo took careful stock of the situation, over analyzing every sip of a drink and every suggestive brush shared between guests. A patient hand rested upon the handle of his sword, gently fingering the simple grip. Interrupting this observation was a squawking from behind the marine, pulling Issen’s eyes away from the crowd.

“Anything to report?” the dull, gray parrot asked with a screeching squawking. The bird was perched atop a lanky, dour looking marine, who stayed silent during the conversation, dark eyes trained on Issen.


Issen abandoned the staring contest, refocusing on the upper crust of Illusia. “We’re all clear. I already told you, Captain Shiner, I’ll handle any problems on the bow of the ship. You can trust me.”

The marine captain whispered something unintelligibly to his bird, then returned his gaze to the back of Issen’s head. “I need every gear on this ship meshing like clockwork,” the bird squawked in reply. “Please don’t let your actions besmirch the name of the 45th branch.” With this warning delivered, Shiner walked away stepping silently.

Issen afforded himself a single glance after the odd man before continuing his study. For the first time on the ship, this observation yielded something suspicious. Nothing about what he had been watching could be forgotten or misremembered, yet something was there that wasn’t before. A new waiter had joined the ranks. Every face of the waitstaff was studied by Issen for such an occasion, and this lean, blond-haired young man wasn’t one of them.

Per the prince’s specific instructions, Issen would have to deal with this imposter as quietly as he would quickly. Should there be any disruption to the partying, it would be considered an egregious affront to the island’s nobility.

Calm and dedicated, Issen descended a flight of stairs down towards the partygoers. Stepping over a pair of flirting drunks, he tracked the waiter’s movements. There was a definite shiftiness to his eyes. Issen had almost caught up to the intruder when an arm shot out of a throng of party-goers, snapping at his elbow.

“Are you lost, help?”


The host of the party was practically spitting when he spoke, spewing a steady stream of alcohol and saliva. “You’re supposed to stay out of the way of my party!” he protested. Issen resisted the urge to break his pointed nose.

“Apologies, your highness,” he nodded his head. “I’m sorry to report there may be a ne’er do well crashing your soiree. If you’d allow me,” Issen gestured to his elbow, “I’ll do away with the problem, no disruption necessary.”

The revelation of a problem, pushed the prince back towards the safety of the crowd. “Just go deal with it! Then get back to your post.” The birthday boy replenished the lost saliva with another swig of whatever paint thinner sloshed around in his goblet before returning to some conversation.

Affront assuaged, Issen returned to the hunt. His prey was long gone, but there was clearly some trouble afoot. Even one petty party crasher in the midst could inflate into a much more dire state of affairs.

Two marine grunts had assumed Issen’s post in his absence. A word to them would have every navy eye on the lookout. But, Issen didn’t know any of them. They were nobodies that could gum up the careful clockwork of his silent hunt. Careful consideration concluded, Issen moved along, looking for a lanky blond waiter. This was something he could do on his own.

Issen Hachiyo’s hypothesis brought him into the kitchen of the Pink Esteem, following what he assumed was the solitary intruder. Brushing past a hasty waiter, Issen barely ducked in time for a kitchen knife to be swung across his cheek. The next swing was blocked by Deviant, Issen’s sword. His weapon drawn, the intruder receded further into the kitchen, scoffing angrily.

“Hey get the fighting out of here!” one cook shouted, angry that his utensils were being used to draw blood.

The intruder threw off his disguise, revealing the full shades of his garb. He was clearly not on any sort of guest list.

Intruder!:

“Too bad you poked your nose into my business, dog,” the intruder said, slipping a wooden quarterstaff out of a slim pocket in his back. “Now I get to crush your skull with my hammer!” The quarterstaff jabbed into his back and reappeared with a thick wooden head. The wiry young man swung his hammer with surprising vigor, but at the end of the swing, he quickly realized the weapon was missing its wooden head.

The end of the weapon clattered to the kitchen floor. Issen returned Deviant from the path of its swing. “I overestimated your strength, I apologize.” Issen admitted. He sheathed his katana, and prepared to grapple with the disappointing upstart. The opponent tried to flee in panic, but found his path obstructed by the same cook that had been shouting earlier, flinging a frying pan into the back of his head.

“I SAID GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN!”

Issen didn’t bother an apology or acknowledgement before dragging the intruder out of the kitchen and into a dark hallway, unbothered by waiters, cooks and guests. The marine snatched some fruity cocktail meant for a guest and threw its contents into the young man’s face, earning a confused awakening.

“I already know of your operation,” Issen bluffed, “my only question for you now is whether you’ll be a help or a hindrance to me putting a stop to it.”

“If you already know about it,” the damp intruder reasoned, “then I guess there’s not much for me to tell you.”

“Guess you’re right.” Issen could probably drop the act and learn something from the criminal. But, being in any way outfoxed by such cannon fodder didn’t sit well with him. He gestured calmly toward the deck of the ship. “Would you like to retreat? Or shall I put you in restraints?”

The intruder screwed up his face, “You’d let me get away?”

“You haven’t done anything but pretend to serve drinks as far as I know,” Issen honestly reasoned. “If you want to bail, I wouldn’t mind. Go and restart your life. Do something productive and earnest with your nights.”

The screwed up look of confusion didn’t fade. “I don’t know what kind of trick this is… but I’m alright where I’m at.” A confident smile eventually took over his face. “Take me in chains, dog.”