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Lilabeth’s Dream
The hammock swayed gently with the motion of the ship. Lilabeth was taking a nap in the Hammock of Hospitality. She had come back to the ship for a bit. The crew was just starting to tame the island that they had won and already they had encountered a tentacled monstrosity and undead hands. One undead hand had slimed her when she had slashed into it. The slime had sickened her even after she went to the water’s edge to wash it off, so she took the smaller of the two boats and headed back to the ship to recuperate.
She was just dozing, letting her mind wander. Lilabeth thought of Captain Pierce Jerrell and was filled with longing. Three months was a long time to be apart but she knew there would be plenty to do so the time would fly by. Her stomach gave a little growl; the nausea was wearing off, and her mind wandered toward dinner and what the cook might be making that night. Finally she drifted off to sleep.
Lilabeth walked down a street of Port Peril as the last glow of sunset dimmed in the sky. She neared the sign of the Golden Rooster, and suddenly the scene changed and she was inside, watching Pierce laughing and gambling at a table near the back. A black cat with bright green eyes stalked back and forth near his chair; he patted it absently a few times and dropped it some scraps from his plate. The cat wandered off and then was back shortly, but it looked bigger to Lilabeth. After pacing around Pierce’s chair, it jumped up on the seat next to him and Pierce petted it while it ate the tidbits he placed there for it. Soon the cat hopped back down and disappeared,
A few minutes later the creature returned again and this time there was no doubt that it was bigger; it had grown as large as a dog of middling size. No one else in the tavern took any notice. In fact Pierce welcomed the cat, saying something about it bringing him luck. He gave it some choice pieces of meat as it stood with its chin on his leg. It was not long before the cat again went wandering out of sight. This time when it returned it was a panther, dark and sleek with green eyes that practically glowed. No one else saw anything amiss; Pierce petted it and called it “nice kitty.” Finally he stood and said, “Come on, kitty, let’s take all this lovely gold and my new map, and go try our luck somewhere else.” He gathered his winnings and left the tavern with his hand on the head of the huge cat, which paced soundlessly beside him.
Suddenly outside again, Lilabeth realized it was late; after midnight, to judge by the angle of the moon. She could see Pierce and the huge black cat ahead of her. They turned into a small street that she knew was a short way to the next major street with several gambling establishments, though the short-cut is dark and not kept up well. She turned into the street right behind them and saw movement in the shadows just before the big cat snarled. Suddenly half a dozen other black panthers leapt out and attacked Pierce. He drew his sword, but went down in a flurry of white fangs and razor-sharp claws. Lilabeth was immobile, helpless to do anything to assist. The attack took only a few moments, or perhaps hours, and then it was over. The cats faded away into the dark and Lilabeth somehow knew that Pierce’s life, his winnings, and anything else of value he had, were gone.