Down by the south river there was a boat that served as a bar for sailors or at least that’s what most people thought. It was actually a bar that supernatural creatures could be themselves without having to worry about any human seeing them. Although it wasn’t outright banning humans either. Humans just stayed away because most thought it was for sailors who wanted to start fights and because of this anyone with half a brain stayed away.

Scott however had done the opposite, not because he was an idiot but because he knew that it was a hive for underworld supernatural business. Everything from drug smugglers to slaver’s would use this place for meetings because no one cared as long as you paid up. If anyone knew about the changeling or the Masked man they would be here.

The ship had three levels: upper deck, lower deck, and the cargo hold. The bar was located on the lower deck but the upper deck was filled with drunks and criminals who didn’t mind if someone they didn’t like disappeared as they wandered onto the ship and none of them liked Scott who was both a drunk and verging on being a criminal.

Of course they also knew what he was capable of so they let him pass for the most part…

“Hey you, Mr. Agent, are you here to kill us?” a drunk troll yelled out to Scott. Troll’s were usually large and stout with long beards. This one on the other hand had mutton chops that extended out several centimeters, also he was short and stout rather than tall and stout.

“No, I don’t have any business concerning any of you.” Scott replied as he continued towards the door to the lower deck.

“So we are not good enough for you Langston. We know you were a street rat before you stole that name. That name that instilled fear in every creature throughout London until you took over. What would your bitch of a wife think if she saw you now? A lowly dru-”

Scott’s body disappeared in a flash as if it fazed out of existence for a moment then appeared in front of the drunk troll. Startled by his movement the troll started to fall back before Scott grabbed him by the throat. The Troll screamed in pain as the silver within Scott’s gloves burned his neck. “You can insult me all you want but never insult my wife. You got that?” the troll nodded and Scott released the grip on his throat. It left a burn mark in the shape of a hand for all to see. The troll scrambled to get up and run away but was unable to go more than a few feet before falling on his face.

Scott continued on as if nothing happened and those around him parted away from him. He felt like he was going to throw up. Using the runes on his body while under the influence of alcohol as he learned in the past can lead to nausea and dizziness. Both were not ideal for the place he was in but he couldn’t help losing his temper with that man.

Upon entering the bar people didn’t even bother to look at him. They were mostly too busy with their drinks or private conversations to care. It was much different than the atmosphere upstairs. Thus no one noticed his somewhat drained face nor did they notice that he was an Agent. He walked over to the bar and took a seat.

The barkeep was human from a noble family but his face had been deformed by birth to the point that his family labeled him as a monster and kicked him out. He had found a place in London though as a friend to all supernatural beings because they never judged him by his looks and took him in. “what can I get for you Scott?” he asked.

“Information.”

“What kind?”

“A changeling or perhaps a Masked man. Have you heard anything about them?”

“There were a few changelings here as a pack several months ago but two of them disappeared. Although it’s strange for you to ever see more than one changeling in the same spot.”

“Has the changeling been here since?”

“Yes, after the two dissapeared it came here often before a robed man came in and made a deal with him.”

“A robed man?”

“Yes he was wearing a mask like you asked about but he was wearing a long robe with a hood covering all but the mask.”

“And what kind of deal did they make?”

“I not entirely sure but the changeling was very excited about the deal as if it only benefited him.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he was smiling from ear to ear the whole time.”

“So I guess he wasn’t entirely lying. He isn’t being forced to do it but still made a deal with the Masked man.” Scott said to himself. “Thanks Bonaparte.”

“Anytime Scott”