Central Beach

Tycondrius, Captain Lang, and Lieutenant Shao Ran sat on a 20-fulm rocky outcropping, overlooking the ocean. As the last vestiges of the sun's light sank beyond the horizon, a foreboding mist churned over the dark waters.

Tycon placed his wooden cup down beside the others, "Captain Lang, from what I was told the island is attacked several times each moon."

Hai shrugged. He poured the last of the bottle of rum into the 3 wooden cups he had provided for the occasion, "Yeah. This one will be the worst we've ever had..."

Tycon raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"Tch. Yeah." Hai scoffed, "Or else I wouldn't bother bringing *both* you and Ran."

Tycon crossed his arms. He did not like how Hai was delaying his clarifications, "Pale and Lone have withdrawn to the southern beach along with Invictus' Warlock, Tarquin Wroe... But they support two full Sea Wolf platoons."

Hai nodded, "I hope those 2 can help the casualty rate... You guys helped out a lot during the raid on the Saltspray pirates."

Ran drained his cup, "Yeah. My men couldn't shut up about you guys. Invictus this, Invictus that! Gahaha! I finally get to see if you're all talk, Tycon."

Tycon ignored the man and groaned inwardly. Where were the central beach's reinforcements? Where was Rico? Where was Eleven of Seven? ...Where was Eilean? Surely any of those were worth more than a single Shao Ran...

The man was the worst card player Tycon had ever seen.

"Can't you smell that, Tycon?" Hai pursed his lips.

Tycon licked his lips. There was a faint stench of beach-washed fish carcasses that only grew stronger each sun. He shook his head, "My senses are not as sharpened as yours, young Captain."

"Yeah, what gives, Cap'n?" Ran inquired.

The cold winds blew sharply, whistling ghostly wails off the crashing rocks. The stench blew in with the waves, the reek of rotting salt-shriveled flesh growing stronger. Its unpleasantness made Tycon frown. Shao Ran gagged.

Lang Hai seemed unaffected. He stood up and swept the sand from his coat and trousers, "It's about that time."

He hopped off the 20-fulm rock. Shao Ran laughed and leapt off after him... Tycon sighed and walked the outcropping's decline, to go around. He wasn't going to waste mana on impressing those fools.

...

Hai and Ran were staring out at the dark waters as Tycon approached.

Lang Hai's voice was deep and serious, "Ran, do you remember much of your training?

"Eh? What about it, Cap'n?"

"There was one night, right about the middle of it... It was the heaviest rainfall and most chaotic lightning storm Saint Guinefort had ever seen. You and your peers were instructed not to leave until morning."

Ran shrugged, "Yeah. I thought that's just so recruits wouldn't try to skip out."

Hai glared, "Well... half-true. Tonight, I'll tell you why some of your instructors never came back..."

High-Captain Lang Hai tilted his head back and howled. The song of the Sea Wolf was deep, sonorous, a wail deeper and louder than a whale-beast and more haunting than a land-wolf. From miles away up and down the coast, other Sea Wolves let loose their ghostly howls.

Hai shut his eyes, listening.

Ran saw Tycon's confused face and translated, "North and south coast're accounted for. The instructors leading the defenses of each beach are saying everything looks normal."

The sea howled back.

A chill ran down Tycon's spine as the sea's gargling wails howled back, ten times greater in number. Enemies. So many enemies. The hair on the back of Tycon's neck stood and adrenaline began to pump through his veins.

Tycon armed his crossbow. He even took out his pistols and loaded them with shaking hands, "Lang Hai, you mean to hold the gods-damned beach with just the 3 of us? Isn't this area *larger* than either of the other beaches?"

Lang Hai smiled with chagrin, "Lieutenant Tycon, the last major attack... I lost nearly two entire platoons, most of them instructors. Over 70 Marines and sailors died in a fifty-yalm radius of this very spot."

Both Tycon and Ran grew quiet at the number. It was thrice the amount of Sea Wolves lost during the Saltspray raids.

Hai grit his teeth and shut his eyes in contemplation, "You're a leader, just like I am... just like Ran is. Every officer lost, every senior leader lost-- every puking, snot-covered recruit lost is unacceptable."

A certain blue-scaled dovahkiin came to Tycon's mind. He nodded solemnly, "Unacceptable, indeed..."

The enemies began to emerge from the sea. First came rotting seaweed-covered ghosts of men wielding broken and rusted blades. Leaping onto rocks from the churning waters were thick, heavyset sea wolves, their scales broken and shattered, intestines spilling from their ghostly splayed-open ribs. Distant in the waters, four misty green phantom ships flew tattered flags of long-forgotten Pirate Kings.

Tycon's jaw dropped. Ghost Sea Wolves and undead pirates... "And is this more than usual, Hai?"

Hai turned back to give Tycon a reassuring smirk, "That night I lost 70 men and women? There were 3 ships."

Lang Hai tossed off his coat and hat onto the beaches, revealing the bare skin to the rain. His muscles began to twist and knot. The smooth sound of flesh crunched together and broke apart as his cursed body began to physically transform.

Hai gazed into the dark, stormy sky at the bright moon beneath the clouds and grinned confidently at his two subordinates, "I called you here because I need you to do what I could not do with two entire platoons of Marines."

He put forward his musclebound fist, "My name is High-Captain Lang Hai. Will you follow me into hell?"

Lightning struck, revealing the shadows of hundreds of angered ghosts dragging their bodies towards the beaches. Tycon gnashed his teeth. The man was a lunatic.

Ran looked to the creatures pouring from the sea. He planted his halberd into the sand and, defiant of the rain, the blade erupted in a golden blaze, "I am Shao Ran and I will follow you into the bleeding gates!! As long as I live and Ferocity burns!!"

He frowned as he looked to the sands below... much of it had turned to glass. If Ran was a little less precise with his mana control, Tycon might have stabbed him in the gut... not that that would greatly affect a Sea Wolf.

The two of them looked to Tycon expectantly. Tycon smiled weakly and drew the Shatterspike longsword. He slashed it against the 20-fulm outcropping adjacent to them, cutting a gash into the rock the height of the transformed Lang Hai.

Ran stared with his mouth agape.

"My name is Tycon." He twisted his lips, "And I plan to outlive the both of you."

Tycon cursed inwardly. If he didn't properly support the two idiot Sea Wolves, he'd likely die on the beach.

"Eh, good enough," Hai chortled, "Lieutenant Shao Ran! Lieutenant Tycondrius Charm!! I order you to hold the beach."