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Praise be to Tumeken
The
Jester’s Folly
glided alongside the Tuai Leit ferry and deployed boarding grapples. This was their third day of assisting the
Spirit of Seiryu
in searches at Menaphos docks, along with the
Amascut’s Wrath.
Their orders: to search for signs of demonic activity on all vessels entering Menaphos.
Tsio Sutada stalked across the gangplank in the foul mood of someone knowing they’re in for a hard time. Blinding sunlight burst through the clouds.
Praise be to Tumeken,
he thought sourly, squinting. He fended the complaining mob off with the usual phrases.
“The sooner you shut up the sooner we’ll be gone.”
“This is for public safety.”
“Same to you.”
The other nine members of the boarding party, including the two vaunted
Guards of Tumeken,
who had been useful for precisely nothing thus far, fanned out and began cursorily looking over the passengers. Sutada wandered over to find the captain. Sometimes they helped, sometimes they obstructed. This one looked agitated.
Perhaps he’s possessed by a demon,
he mused sarcastically.
“Officer, I must protest this delay!” the portly captain complained, twirling his moustache around his finger in worry. “Do you want the lives of babies on your conscience? Do you?”
Tsio sighed. “I assume you’re going to explain what that means?”
The captain drew himself up to his full unimpressive height and exhaled. “Follow me.”
Sutada shrugged and followed him down the steps to the lower deck. Walking past benches of passengers waiting to be checked, the captain stopped at a young woman cradling a baby, rocking back and forth. She looked up with wild eyes. “We’ve arrived? Oh, thank the gods! Where are the healers?”
“Ask him,” the captain huffed, taking his leave.
