The night before the battle.

After finalising your plans for the coming encounter, the group slowly dissipates, looking to oversee some things that need to be done, or just enjoy the final night of tenuous peace before the fighting begins in earnest.

Leaving your security detail in your quarters, you venture into the portion of the camp given over to your mercenary forces. It isn't hard to locate Roland's tent, given his stature and... distinctiveness.

Having grown in renown and demand since your secret alliance had been cemented, Roland's war band numbers nearly five hundred fighters at present. Most of the warriors under his banner are Itherians, usually of lesser birth, just like The Shark himself. Many of them are beastfolk, including his chief lieutenant, an alluring young woman with gray-furred feline features.

Approaching Roland, you indicate you desire a private meeting. Your cousin shoos his comrades from his tent, ensuring no one's listening before the two of you talk freely.

“Pet fish!” Roland says, his tone rising. “That arrogant human'll live to regret that. Pet fish...”

“Peace, cousin.” you counsel. “Lord Eoghan will know not to underestimate you again after he's seen you on the battlefield.”

Roland laughs, puffing out his chest.

“Yeah, he will at that. With a bit of luck, I'll face him down when I lead grandfather's army one day, too.” Roland says.

“I-I've fucked his daughter, I think.” you drop in, thinking fondly of that night with Kara and Rhona. “She'd make a fine bit of plunder.”

Roland roars with laughter, clasping you on the shoulder.

“She'll have to wait in line. Speaking of daughters, about to be a father yourself, eh?” Roland states. “I was with my mother right before coming to your side. Thick with child, she is.”

You chuckled to yourself. If not for your occasional magical communications with Arvha and Bezoriana, their bellies ever expanding with child, you might've begun to doubt that portion of the night in Sinnabarrow had ever really happened.

“Hey, I just did what the Allsire asked.” you slur with a smile.

“Yep, you get to knock up his daughters, I get to do mercenary work and kill for him. What a division of labour that is.”

You can't deny you've got the cushier lot in life, but then again, Roland was far more effective on the battlefield than you could ever hope to be. In fact, you had planned to remain in camp entirely, leaving the fighting to your men and the Beathans. Such a tactic would make you appear weak in the eyes of some, many even, but it was surely better than being rent apart by some anonymous reaver.

“All this effort to defeat a boy.” Roland notes. “You can't just ask Corinne to do her thing, scale the walls, put a dagger in his chest?”

“Well firstly, someone infiltrating the castle like that and eliminating Siggi might attract undue attention to the cult. Second, I think an an entire army of Deanian raiders on high alert might be beyond even Corinne's capacity for stealth. And third, she's three whole kingdoms away.”

“Point taken.” Roland shrugs. “But still, you should use her on this campaign, if you can. She may be in Morland, but all she ever does in hang around the de Glace estate with Arvha. Interacts with most everyone, even the Morlandian court, through proxies.”

“Most of them think she's just a mad old inbred spinster.” The Shark explains. “Which, you know, she kind of is, but they've no clue what she's capable of, really.”

“She is a useful ally.” you agree. Surely there would come some time when her services would be needed.

“Useful in more ways besides, eh cousin?” Roland says, a twinkle in his shiny black eyes. “Though I kind of got the impression another around here might already be occupying that role, hmm?”

“I'm sorry?” you ask.

“King's sister. The other king, I mean.” the sell-sword says. “I saw the way you were eyeing her during that meeting. Gingers aren't my bag, but she's comely, I'll give you that.”

“Oh yes, that's Princess Kara. I've had my eye on her for s-some time.” you admit.

“Yep, she'll make a decent enough concubine when the humans fall to us! One of many!” Roland exclaims.

“I... actually intend to marry her.” you tell your cousin.

“Oh?” Roland says, his grey, hairless brow raising. “She must be a hellion in private, eh? For you to make her your queen. Must be depraved, since there's almost no way she can be that close to you without learning of the cult, your... true nature, you know?”

“Yes...” you say simply. It had already dawned on you of course, that a warrior princess of good virtue such as Kara might be the single most dangerous person you could reveal your true parentage to.

Part of you was convinced, however, that you could keep your heritage, your involvement with Arinum's cause, from her, just as you had from everyone your entire life.

“You should go to her.” Roland advises. “Night before a big battle, she'll be itching for a fuck, I know I am! Unless...”

“Unless what?”

“Well, you think she's into sharks?” Roland guffaws.