If there was one thing Percy hated about all of the shake ups across Charon was that it made living the cozy life of a criminal hard. Everyone was on edge and eyes peeled so even small crimes were chased after. It was also harder to earn coin without doing soemthing that helps people. Everyone and their Ginma damned brother wanted someone else to do something for them.

He wasn't inherently a hateful person, but he did hate reaching out to others. No one had ever really reached out to him much, not that he needed them to. Percy made it this far, so why change anything now?

Incoherent grumbling is heard as he stands at the edge of the flats. Now here was something he hated, swamps. Can't decide if it wants to be water or land, stupid swamp, make up your mind! He groaned as he put his hands on his hips.

"Wonder what a...feck was it, bogskipper? Tastes like.....probably tastes like shite...damned bugs...Still though...can probably get away with eating one, right?"

The shark was not talking to anyone in particular, but he was just grumbling into the air. He slapped his neck to squish a mosquito.

"Nevermind....just gonna kill all the bugs and blame it on the bandits."

Dante had gotten curious about the strange insect-like bile that he had discovered with Sarne in whatever sort of nightmare realm they had been transported to. He chalked up the fever dream experience to some magical being playing some kind of prank on them. It seemed on brand for the spooky holiday season, and while it was mostly harmless the fear was quite palpable and certainly tested the boundaries of what constituted a prank versus outright traumatic harassment. Normally he wouldn't dwell upon it, but the fact that his very dreams left behind some kind of vomiting potion suggested there was more to it than simple pranks.

He doubted these insects the quest givers were looking for were the same species. He needed to compare the two species together to get a better understanding. He wasn't an alchemist, but he could consult an apothecary once the deed had been done. Dante found a quiet comfort in the knee high bogwater; he was used to a more dry heat, and the sticky humidity was offset by the cool yet dangerous waters. He had on longer pants than he normally wore to avoid the assault of leeches, and his long sleeve brown shirt and bug netted hat suggested he was dressed for function over form. Truly the Master of Ceremonies was out of his element.

Wiping his brow, he caught someone out in the distance. As the figure came closer, he could hear him cursing about something or another. The rugged triton seemed dangerous, but then again Dante grew up in Darkveil. He was practically a welcome sight all things considered.

"Greetings! I hope you aren't lost. I was looking for Bogskippers, large insects with green leafy looking carapaces. Have you happened to see anything of the sort on your travels friend?"

Fantastic...a do-gooder. Just what Percy needed when he was already annoyed. He could tell just by the tone and introduction this was going to be a long job.....a very long job.

"Aye sure, feckin lost er whatever, its the Marsh Flats, everything feckin comes here to get lost." He claps another mosquito out of existence. Stupid bugs. Useless little creatures....You never have to deal with bugs on the sea.

Well....lobsters are kinda like bugs....but at least you can hand a knife to a lobster and watch it fight another lobster. Can't do that with mosquitos. Sea bugs are better than land bugs, Percy decides. Seems like a pretty simple decision when you think about it.

"Some arsehole is payin fer the whatever ye called them to be taken out so....guess we are on the same feckin job." Another mosquito is clapped as Percy growls with annoyance. He suddenly turns on his heel, facing Dante for the first time.

"Do ye do magic er whatever? Just feckin light this place on fire, boghoppers are gonna burn up in it as well, feckin win win fer us so I don't have to track and kill every damned mosquito in this bog."

Dante held up a hand and said, "I don't believe we are exterminating the Bogskippers necessarily. I think it might simply be easier and more expedient that we free them from their Mud Worm gang captors. We'll have an easier time finding their camp than a Bogskipper who doesn't wish to be found. Oh, where are my manners?" Dante took a slight bow and said, "Dante Discreet, Master of Ceremonies. You wouldn't know it given our circumstances but I coordinate some of the finest and most resplendent celebrations in all of Charon."

He stood straight and continued to wade through the swamp water. He said, "I've already been searching for some time, but I've narrowed down where the Mud Worm camp may be so you're in luck. Much of our... searching has already accomplished by yours truly. Just stick to the shadows and all that, release them from their cages, and who knows? You may have an opportunity to express your frustrations upon some ne'er-do-wells in a fashion suitable to what I can only assume are violent tendencies given how you carry yourself."

He winked and crept across the swamp, pushing through some underbrush, mucky water, and a small forest of lily pads. He put a finger to his lips and whispered, "I think we're in luck. Look out there, at the camp. You see the cages and the rough looking folks mulling about?" Indeed, they had come across a camp where several cages held giant muck green shelled insects. The bandits had simple leathers, clubs, crossbows, and whatever other reclaim weapons they burgled. One had more proper banded armor and a large broadsword as well as a heavy crossbow, clearly the leader of this Mud Worm cell.

"Right....the bandit shites." In his anger over being accosted by mosquitos he had forgotten about that part of the job. Still...they could burn too along with the bugs for all Percy cared. This was just about the coin...the slow and stupid trudge towards regaining his life at sea.

"Yer a fancy boy I get it an' frankly don't care. Carry yer own weight kid, bandits ain't exactly in need o' a weddin planner." He chuffs as he starts walking again.

Normally bandits aren't too hard to find, jerks seem to attract jerks so you would think Percy would move towards them like a magnet. If one of them was bleeding, it would be even easier given his shark nature, but alas nothing is coming just yet. Everything is too masked by the muck of the swamp. Honestly, not a bad plan if you want a life as a middling bandit gang. Not many people are going to want to venture out into the Marsh Flats and if you learn the land, you can use it to your advantage pretty well.

"Ye talk a lot without sayin much, anyone ever tell ye that?" As much as he is aware of who he is and how he is, no one likes being directly called out for being a violent jerk. Well, no one who isn't 1,000 percent a jerk. Percy was only 999 percent jerk.

He raises an eyebrow watching the fellblood slink and move through the brush. Percy just keeps walking normally, tiger sharks aren't ambush predators after all. He does look up to see the bandits through and cracks his knuckles before brazenly moving forward.

"Oi, shite fer brains run before I spread ye as far across the Marsh and as in many pieces as possible." Percy's challenge is met with raised crossbows. "I was hopin ye'd say that."

Time for some much needed anger management in the form of turning bandits into paste. As he ran in, Percy's form began to change. His muscles expaned, body started to broaden, his head shifted into something more directly resembling a shark.[1,2]

Bolts flew by, some grazing or even sticking into the wereshark, but he charged forward regardless.

---

1.Bestial Transformation
2. Berserker's Rage

Dante let the rogue's barbs slide from him like water off a duck's wing. He was already poised to the task, and it seemed rather boorish company. Just as well. He had grown up with Percy types all his life, and he knew his tongue was far sharper and deadlier than his. Well, maybe his muscles might have an edge. Speaking of which, he saw the bandits clearly drawn to the belligerent man who seemed so impatient that he decided to dispatch the bandits in a berserker's rage. Dante used this opportunity to go to the cages and start plucking open the latches and free some of the Bogskippers.

As the bandits began to realize that Dante was there, and as Percy was knicked and cut by an onslaught of rugged ruffians, Dante called out, "You're doing great! Keep up the good work, and if you could cover me while I get these little buggers out that would be most appreciated!" As he gave minor healing to Percey using Rejuvenating Speech, he would dip behind a cage as a crossbow bolt shot out at him, and he retaliated with a Chromatic Blast of lightning, the salty water exploding where the now fried corpse stood.

The Bogskippers began to skitter across the camp, knocking over tables, tearing through tents, and knocking down bandits as they scampered into the bog. It was utter madness when one included the raging wereshark in their midst.

One of the bandits turns as Dante calls out. Whatever their plan was out here it required those bogskippers so seeing them let loose wasn't exactly a good idea. They turn to try and to chase after the fellblood. They pause seeing on of their friends get zapped out of existence.

This whole operation had gone to hell rather quickly as far as the bandits were concerned. They'd already lost one man to magic and others were falling pretty quickly as Percy's even more brutish form made quick work of others. Bones could be heard cracking after every punch and those that weren't torn into with a bite wallowed in pain in the mud.

"Screw the bogskippers, people will pay big coin if I bring in a monster like you. The bigger and uglier the better pay out!" The leader pointed his broadsword at Percy.

The wereshark held one of the bandits face in his palm, the criminal flailing and desperately trying to free himself like a caught animal. Percy looks towards the leader before slamming the man he held into the mud where the flailing stopped.

"I'd like to see ye try ye gutless little shite. Ye can't even pull off stealing feckin bugs....Leave this one to me fellblood, ye just wrangle the bugs or whatever the job was 'ere."

The bandit and the shark charge each other, the former taking a heavy swing with his sword and the latter catching that sword in his bare hand.[1] Percy yanks the man forward and headbutts him squarely in the nose.

"COME ON THEN, I THOUGHT YE WERE GONNA CATCH THE MONSTER, AYE?" His rage was hitting its peak as the man took another swing.

---

1. Hands are Weapons

Dante was inclined to agree with the gruff gentleman, turning his attention back to the task of releasing the bugs. He had gotten to the last cage and saw some more of the goon squad making their way to Percy. He looked above them to see a large, thick set of curly branches from a kind of banyan tree. He aimed his palm and fired off smaller versions of Chromatic Blast at the opposite ends of the lanky pieces of wood. His timing let him catch a couple of the bandits in a falling log trap that pinned them to the muck and mire.

Only a couple more were in the fray with the leader and Percy, and with the bogskippers all but released into the wild, Dante called out, "If you don't want my acquaintance here to be violently disagreeable towards you, perhaps surrender is in order so you might live. Right?"

He looked for confirmation from the berserking wereshark, emphasizing in the hopes he would listen. Or he would cut them all down and kill them. It solved the problem either way, but perhaps having a prisoner or two would be useful to the client as to how this operation came to be.

The bandit leader, seeing what had happened around him, was inclined to listen. Whatever scheme they had dreamed up seems to have evaporated anyways and he had no delusions of honor or dying with dignity.

Before he could respond though an uppercut to the midsection knocked the wind out of him. He collapsed and gasped for breath. Percy stood over him looking a bit disappointed. Slowly he shifts back down, feeling the fatigue hit his muscles as he rubs the back of his neck with a groan.

"Ah, had a feelin' ye'd wanna do the talkin' bit..." He looks back towards Dante as he flips the man onto his back. "There, he won't drown in the muck."

He looks around as the other bandits that weren't dead start to crawl and run away. Bogskippers happily skip about now that they are free from their cages. All in all, seems like they did it?

"Don't worry, he ain't dead....gonna be a minute though. Hurts like shite gettin' the wind knocked outta ye......So with the magic stuff, ye just not like killin' folk? Seems like yer just makin more work for yourself bein clever."

He motions towards the falling log trap and the improvised taser move. They have some time before that guy gets up, might as well make small talk.

Dante grinned and held up a hand, saying, "Well I'm all for speaking with the fellow, perhaps he needs a minute to cool off from this rather sudden and unfortunate event he's found himself in. But just because I'm verbose doesn't mean I can't enjoy a good silence though it's rather tempting to speak and listen when meeting new people."

He looked back at the crushed bandits and the one that was fried. He then turned back to Percy and said, "More work? I suppose it a certain sense yes, it would take more effort. It's good practice I think to force yourself to think of creative solutions to problems. The answer isn't always to simply overpower as effective as that is in many circumstances. And I'm not particularly out to kill or not kill. If they are rendered incapacitated, wonderful. If they die, so be it."

Dante gestured behind him as the camp grew smaller and said, "I knew that the lightning would work because I know there's a lot of salt in these waters which conducts quite well. And thick trees always have heavy pieces falling from them. Really all the cleverness simply lies in understand the battlefield you're in. That and I've had plenty of time to hone my talents on the streets. Yes, you wouldn't know it from how I speak or even how I dress but my best friends were poor bastards like this one. A real shame how that went good sir."

He gave the bandit leader a pat on the back and said, "But my good sir, surely you know that movibg animals is a grave risk right? It's slow going, and it gives people time to put up bounties and hire adventurers and the like! If you ever get out you really need to reconsider your approach."

Percy pulls over a corpse to sit on so he's not butt first in the marsh. Occasionally he will poke at the leader with his mace just to make sure he wasn't dead yet. All right maybe conversation was a bad idea. This guy was saying a lot of fancy things the shark didn't understand or care to.

"Shite's a lot simpler if they're dead. Kill er be killed..s'just the natural order o' things. Predator eat the prey.....prey hope to whatever the feck they can do to survive is enough. When yer on yer feckin deathbed ain't shite gonna be with ye....just yerself...then Aigéan sends ye off."

Another little poke as the man starts to gurgle. Hey, progress! Percy pokes him in the ribs again to force some coughing. That'll wake him up.

"Well, ye probably got a few minutes still before he's up an at'em. We goin with the dead or alive part o' this bounty er whatever."

The bandit looks behind them, his sight and vision barely clearing, but he's smart enough to figure out what is happening. He can barely form coherent words, but please and live are about the only understandable things he manages to get out.

Dante smirked and said, “Ah an evolutionary survivalist I see. It’s an effective philosophy when you are at the top of the food chain. Which it seems our friend isn’t.” He poked the waking bandit leader, “Well it seems our ex-leader here is far too battered for any meaningful conversation. I suppose we should simply relieve him of his freedom and turn him in. Poor fellow can’t even tell the difference between the marsh and his spit.”

After some time passed, the two of them with their captive in tow reached the edge of the marsh and finally to civilization. As they were approaching the constable’s office, Dante sighed and said, “Well here we are. I don’t know about you, but a long bath, some fresh clothes, and a long nap seem to be in order. You’re free to come by the tavern and have a drink with me if you like. Otherwise it was quite grand working with you.” He gave a winning smile to the bandit leader and said, “Oh and please don’t lie to the guards here, they’ll only extend your sentence if you do that. I also don’t think there’s anyone left alive to snitch on anyways so there’s that silver lining! Chin up.” He lightly slapped the bandit’s cheek a couple times before giving the shark man a wave and turning to the nearest tavern to take a bath.

"Still with the big feckin words." Percy stands with a little grunt as he stretches his back. The fellblood was alright by the shark's estimation, maybe a little fancier than the people he normally puts up with......but hard to complain about a guy who can shoot lightning out of his hand.

He wraps the bandits wrists in a rope and drags him behind the pair like yard waste. Percy is sure not to run him into any rocks and kill him, but it ain't exactly like it is a comfortable journey for the bandit. But what do they care? He's a bandit.

"Oh ye ain't gotta invite me to a tavern, generally find myself in there anyways." He hands the rope over to an understandably confused looking guard. "Give'em a bit, got the shite kicked outta him...might be a little uh...fecked in the 'ead right now."

At the tavern, it's clear the two men have very different intentions. Dante, smartly, aims to get clean and free of the marsh smell before drinking. Percy does not care about the smell and would like to get drunk sooner rather than later.