who?: @hiddenvaldis where?: the hanged man when?: while this dumb siege is happening as if pirates would care about that
For his own benefit and peace of mind, The Dreadnought remained close to his Captain. It meant he often seemed out of place, like a looming shadow carrying an air of negativity behind her. In the bustling backroom of The Hanged Man, he sat in the corner while Valdís raked in the gold. She was good, but The Dreadnought wasn't a gambler and saw little benefit in the games she played. Round after round, his anxiety spiked until it all spilled out in the form of an outburst. His cane came down harshly on the table and a cutting silence followed as the whole room looked at The Dreadnought in shock. In fact, beneath the mask, his face looked much like theirs as he seemed to take action without conscious thought. Though this merely translated to a few extra moments of awkward silence before he remembered to press two fingers to his throat.
"Captain, haven't you had your fill yet?" he says, the second set of vocal chords he wove modulating his voice beyond recognition. "It's time we move on, no? Your luck may run out soon." The Dreadnought wanted to go, but a secretive, masked man drew attention when alone. When he stood behind a renowned captain, then he was just another head in her posse. That was the whole point, however their lifestyles couldn't have been more different. Beneath the mask, Kian was bored, agitated, awkward, and yes truly worried. This was the second night in a row they were present at The Hanged Man. "Plus, we wouldn't want Lysaran spies thinking they've observed a pattern in your movements. We should go, you've practically drained them of their gold already."
