Upon returning to the BLUE demense, everything seems about the same as before. Same shops at the south, same boats docked on the east and west, same fishermen on the north, and same storage shacks in the middle. 

*IF THEY SPEAK TO ANYONE*
When they see you, they do a double-take to recognize you. "Oh! It's... it's the Kings of Kings!"

Behind you, you hear someone else say the same thing, and then two more, then four, and it rides all the way across the wharf island. It takes a minute, but now, everyone around you has stopped and is staring at you with knowing grins.
  
*IF ANYONE SAYS ANYTHING*  
You hear someone in the background shouting "DOR RIN! DOR RIN!" And slowly more people join in on the chanting, only taking about a minute before the entire island is chanting his name. From within the storage area, you see a tall figure approaching. 
 
Dorrin marches his way across the dock, harpoon carried across his shoulder in his left hand. This time, he wears a double breasted deep blue suit, complimented with a red pocket square to match the red tie against his bright white dress shirt, and a matching fedora with a red hat band. 
 
Everyone quickly moves out of the way for him, the chanting slowly dying down. When he reaches you, he slams the butt of his harpoon onto the dock, and leans down slightly. "I owe you all something, something I should've given you when you first came here."

He extends his beefy right hand down, offering you a handshake. "My name is Dorrin Dodici. And I welcome you to my demense, Kings of Kings."
  
The second someone shakes his hand, everyone around you cheers their hearts out. Dorrin slams his harpoon into the pier again, getting everyone's attention. "I assume you have come to challenge me for my Regalia, correct?"  
  
*IF THEY CONFIRM*  
"Then may the tides of victory be ever in your favor!" Everyone starts cheering again, but he slams his spear into the dock a third time, reclaiming everyone's attention.
  
"BUT FIRST! I still owe you a debt of gratitude for finding out my daughter is alive. Before our challenge, please join us in a meal of the finest seafood our demense has to offer!"  
  
*IF THEY AGREE*  
Everyone cheers louder than before, the entire south side of the demense suddenly in a frenzy. In a matter of moments, a long table and several chairs have been produced, white tablecloth and everything, as well as plates and silverware. There are even glasses of wine being poured for everyone. 
  
From the East & West docks, you hear sizzling and smell the distinct scent of fish cooking, several people grilling a different type of fish for anyone's selective appetite. From groupers to flounders, from tuna to trout, the entire wharf is engulfed in the biggest fish grill imaginable. And Dorrin is ordering one of everything.  
  
From the north side, you see multiple people walk over carrying instruments, led by Gallon with a violin in hand. There are also a few women dancing to give something of a visual spectacle while the first round of food is placed on your table.
- They are playing Il Canto di Malavita, the kind of song you recognize from Italian movies

And you may be the only ones seated, but everyone around you is eating as well, enjoying the festivities.
 
*AFTER THEY ALL EAT* 
   
Dorrin stands from the table, looking visually no different despite eating twice as much as your whole group combined. He slams his spear into the ground twice, getting everyone's attention again. "The time for our Challenge is nigh!"
  
Everyone backs away and cheers them on as the table and chairs are suddenly pulled away. The shops are slowly but surely all picked up and pulled back & to the sides several yards. There is now an appropriately sized fighting space, mostly on the solid ground and partly on the dock.  
  
Dorrin removes his coat and tosses it to the audience, revealing his INCREDIBLY firm physique under his white shirt. He does the same with his hat, tie, and cufflinks, in that order. He takes his fighting position, spear gripped in both hands, and declares, "Give me your best shot!"  
   
AFTER THE FIGHT   
   
*IF THEY LOSE*  
Dorrin stands tall, battered and bruised with his suit in shreds, gripping his harpoon tightly. He steps closer to your group, standing in such a way his head blocks out the sun from overhead so you cannot see his face clearly.  
  
"You all fought valiantly. Learn from this experience, grow stronger from it, and fight me again. Whenever you feel you are ready." He will slowly walk away, using the harpoon as a cane, until he is out of sight. 
   
*IF THEY WIN*  
Dorrin sits on his knees, panting hard, both hands gripping his harpoon tightly to keep himself upright. "You are all little monsters, you know that?" 
 
He slowly climbs up to his two feet, almost falling over. "And I know a thing or two about raising a little Hellian."  
  
He cracks his neck in both directions, wiping blood from his mouth. "I fully admit and acknowledge my defeat. You have earned the Tide Turner." 
 
He turns the spear around and jams the sharp tip into the ground, leaving it embedded and free standing in the wood of the dock. He tries to take a step and stumbles a bit, the people from the audience suddenly rushing to help lift him up. 
 
Gallon steps forth, arms behind his back with a grin a mile wide. "Yer Daughter'd be proud of ye, Dorrin." He then presents a brand new bottle of wine to him and a bucket of ice.  
  
You could swear you saw Dorrin smile a bit as he grabbed the bottle, drinking the whole thing down in a solid second. You watch the two walk away, Gallon spouting fisherman-isms the whole way, followed by a good dozen other people fascinated by the conversation.