Stavanger Bay the night of long fangs

 
The boy came as he was summoned, and Skellige peered at him with shadowy eyes. His lips remained a thin line on his grizzled face. Rannoch remained mute as he stared on at the shadowy brute. It was a moderate change from the blatant disrespect that had been shown to the leviathan before. Deirdre had told him that stealing children in the dead of night and tossing them to the open mouth of the sea was not the best way to win favors from anyone, but it was his nature to do so. The waters beckoned to him and willed him to do their bidding – he would not deny what they longed for. Since they had blessed the bay, he had known that there would be terrible things that would be required for them to thrive there. He had been prepared to demonstrate these actions from birth. His heart and soul belonged to the depths.  
 
"You are going to receive a blessing tonight. A guide to give you strength through your life," he remarked in a rumbling baritone to the young forest child. On that night, he would become a child of the sea – the great ones had spoken and their word would not be crossed again.  
 
With a quiet sigh, he glanced toward the waters and then back to Rannoch. Skellige attempted to keep his voice level and to speak with the boy as a young adult as opposed to a child. "Deirdre mentioned that you did not favor the waters of Blackrock, but we must have you drink of the plum whiskey and step into her depths. Will you deny this?"