Stavanger Bay i prayed heaven today would bring its hammer down on me

"OI!" murgash roared over the frolicking of the waves, his expression pulled into a sour frown as he regarded the dismal view that greeted him. he had been looking forward to his part his entire sojourn; much the way a weary traveler jovially swings for home. or perhaps his anticipation was more akin to what a traveler feels visiting a tavern full of warm food and good looking women. he expected a grand fuckin' welcome, what with him being skellige's kids favorite handsome man - but there was nothing grand or exciting about the grey shore that met him.

that grey shore sucked back over gloomy rocks; murgash was convinced it was even more depressing than he had left it. after all, he did have a way of brightening up a room - when he had left stavanger, he had surely taken all of its good cheer with him. he supposed the stone-clad shore that scowled back at him couldn't be faulted for looking so miserable - he had been gone a long time and was surely missed.

murgash's broad features worked into a scowl, and he squinted over the mist-rimmed surf. "oi sed, OOOIIII!!!" he bellowed again. no response save the ostensible chatter of seagulls. he stared at them disapprovingly and cursed their stupid webbed feet and honking beaks.

after what seemed an interminable amount of time, murgash found his one good eye trailing off in the direction of doe's den. he wondered if that old bag was still around - or more importantly, if she kept her cache as well stocked as he recalled it. he resolved to visit her cache first, whether he was allowed to or not. impatiently the man started to hum his own croaking tune, his paws drumming against the sand as he hungrily peered into stavanger's keep.