Visit the One-Eyed Captain in the hospital

The shadows fall long inside St. Mara’s. Doctors in white and nurses in stripped pinafores step loud and bold through the endless hallways, but you only ever seem to catch their shadows as they vanish into the half-light. Finally, one pauses long enough to point you towards the One-Eyed Captain before disappearing. In the distance, some unfortunate soul laments their torment with piercing wails.

She has her own room. Her name in brass above the door, a single bed, white sheets and blue flowers by the open window. You add your meagre bouquet to the other and approach her place of rest. Bandages cover her body and her arms up to the shoulders. Half her face is shrouded, the eyeless socket and bone-deep wound wrapped in gauze. Her legs are cast in plaster.

She stirs at your approach. Her single eye flutters open, and her chapped lips contort into a smile. ”Fuck the Saints.”

You have brought a book. One of the pulpy, borderline illegal romances she likes. The story of a foreign peasant girl learned in some fantastical magicks does not appeal to you, and the world it describes makes you doubt the author’s sanity.

But she listens, her attention focussed on your voice until you finish the chapter and turn the page to the next. ”Not...” Her voice is raspy and she delivers the words haltingly and with her grimace pained. ”Not that one. Skip. Any – any other.

You ask her why.

”It...my.” She coughs. ”Favourite.”

You give her a quizzical look.

”Fuck.” She inches her head to indicate her bandaged arms. ”I...” A deep red has spread over her face, and her voice is a hoarse whisper. ”Horny.” {if Connected: The One-Eyed Captain = 3} {else} She then shakes her head and averts her gaze. ”Nevermind.” {endif}