Cadmus entered the dimly lit tavern. Old Hob was at station manning the bar. The den was scarcely populated. A few locals and some of his crew huddled close to their drinks.
“Where is the crew of the Rasputina?” The Captain looked at Hob and hissed through clenched teeth. His pipe wreathed his head in smoke.
“The Bucket” The weathered head gave a jerk in the direction of the part of Iron Bay known as The Gut.
The Captains eyes flashed with anger.
“The Goat, the Tin Knight across town, The Couple, even an urchin, but worst of all is the Albino down the street.” His slow, soft tone unnerved his crew nearby. They knew a storm was on the horizon.
Cadmus strode over to the wall and picked up the implement of death. The sharp steel of the harpoon reflected the candle light.
“I will not have a ship dock here and drink there. THIS IS WAR!”
Looking at the Captain, the old tattooed sailor picked up a flensing knife and spoke. “The shroud of the darkness has fallen. Begun the Bar Wars has.”