The Seal of Disapproval

Along the misty shores of Asharia, in the coastal town of Ironshoal, lives a famously peculiar Veilian seal. This large, rotund, and heavily spotted creature has earned renown not for his tricks or temperament, but for his demanding taste in ale. Each evening, he hauls himself onto the edge of the dock outside the Copperkettle Tavern, where he waits—silent, expectant, and wholly unimpressed—until someone brings him his pint.   The locals have named him Surlin the Disproving, though most simply call him the Seal of Disapproval. With an austere presence and a face that could wither courage, Surlin’s expression rarely changes. His long white whiskers splay outward like a meticulous mustache, and his tusks—one long and elegant, the other broken at the tip—only enhance his dignified, if disapproving, demeanor.   Many approach him with questions to see if Surlin will give his blessing, they bring him an ale and leave it on the dock as they confess. They as him things like:
  “Should I marry her, Surlin? She don’t like oysters.”
  “I may have slightly miscounted the tax barrels. It was an honest mistake.”
  “The copper’s not holding shape like I want. Give me the groan of truth."
  “I cussed at the priest again. What d’ya say, eh?”
  “Mister Surlin, I think I broke Ma’s compass. Please don’t tell her.”

  After a confession, they wait for him his opinion.
 

Surlin’s Signature Acts of Disapproval

The Turn of Shame Without a sound, he rotates 180° on the dock, exposing his back to the offender. If the person still tries to offer ale or apology, he slowly slides into the water without a splash — the ultimate cold shoulder.   The Flat-Fin Slap He raises one flipper... and slaps it slowly against the wooden dock. Once. Then again. Deliberate. Judging. Echoing.   The Guttural Groan A deep, long exhale that sounds like a deflating wineskin and pure disappointment rolled into one. Locals call it "the groan that curdled the cream."   The Mustache Quiver His whiskers twitch ever so slightly. Just enough to let you know he’s displeased — like a nobleman judging soup.   The Delayed Sip and Spit If offered the wrong ale and he deigns to try it: He sips (licks the foam). Pauses. Spits it over the side and looks directly at the nearest person.   The Tragic Slide Sometimes, when deeply offended, he won’t even groan. He will simply lie flat, flop himself back into the water in silence, and vanish below. Locals say it can take three days to earn him back after a Tragic Slide.  
       

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  © Sorianna Choate. All rights reserved. All written content, including character, setting, and lore, is the original creation of Sorianna Choate. Artwork and imagery are original works by the author. No part of this piece may be copied, reproduced, or used without explicit permission