Stavanger Bay may we all die twice

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Stavanger Bay is abandoned. Arturo knows it the moment he comes across it’s borders stale and fading with neglect. The gangster drinks in what is left with flared, black leathery nostrils realizing that Skellige’s scent is long since disappeared. Arturo’s head rises from the once well kept borders and he draws in a second deep breath, the tangy brine of sea salt whipping against his face mixed as it was with ancient ash trees, and he closes his eyes, shutting out the fierce burn of the twin suns for the briefest of moments. He is gripped with sorrow and guilt that he has not been a good ally or friend to the Cairns. Though he has had no hand in their undoing he feels slightly at fault nevertheless. When Donnelaith went up in flame and smoke he should have offered Szymon and his wolves aid, he should have been more attentive; but the gangster is selfish and he only saw Lotte battling for her life and coming close, he suspects, to losing a few times. They suffered but so did he. Each rattling breath Lotte had drawn in had been torture for the Fearghal that loved her as he loves no other. He had made Lotte his priority and now Teaghlaigh stood small but proud whilst her allies were left to ruin around her. Now, they stood alone.

Regardless, it is done and he cannot reverse it; and if he were to be honest with himself he would choose Lotte over his hurting allies again. Every time. He pushes forth, past the stale borders and into the Bay’s territory knowing that if any stragglers of the Depths remained that he might yet be able to help them. Though the Depths is no more he will honor the deal he made with Skellige almost a year ago now. He would offer them a home if they wished it; though he was willing to offer any wayfarer who offered their loyalty to him, his Queen and The Family sanctuary and a place among them. Lotte has begun to show the early signs of pregnancy and with two litters in competition with one another — unless he decides to punish Olive and Dakarai by killing their children outright (as to which he has thought of a few times in his fury with them) as he threatened he would do if Teaghlaigh’s adult numbers did not see an influx — the pressure is unyielding upon his strong shoulders. It is the urgency that drives Arturo from his borders in recruitment runs hoping that if he cannot sway others into joining than that he could at the very least get word spread.

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