Wheeling Gull Isle When everyone you thought you knew deserts your fight

There was something ominous about Bartholomew's rejoinder. Tybault, being Tybault, immediately felt more at ease. Rules meant some semblance of order and sanity, at least, even if it was only the most basic. He nodded.
Right. All I care about is finding my sister. I won't cause any trouble, As long as you don't get in my way. He could promise that, if nothing else. He gestured for the man to lead the way, already impatient to question the island's inhabitants. It didn't matter how many there were, or how strange they were. He would interrogate all of them, if Bartholomew let him.