Leviathan sat in the tavern, leaned back with his feet up on the table and ankles crossed. One arm around a beautiful tavern wench and the other holding a mug of ale.

None here knew the truth of his nature; none knew that the stories told in frightened whispers of a mighty kraken was really him, and none ever would. None of these stupid humans could ever truly find out his nature.

He downs half his mug of ale in one go then lets out a satisfied, "Ahhh...." before giving a smile and a nod to the woman on his arm as she prattled on. He couldn't remember her name or even tell you what she's talking about. She didn't matter. She was just another human. One pretty enough to warm his rented bed for the night but nothing more. Nothing truly worth his time or effort.

His gaze sweeps across the tavern hoping to hear more stories about himself as the tavern fills up with a new crew of sailors having just arrived at port and looking to let off steam.