Sarel let the wind dance across his ashen blue skin as he watched the waves cascading below flow upward into microcosmic jetstreams of fluvial action. Tiny water particles floated in mid air and brushed across the wooden deck only to flow back downward and join their brothers in the continuous universe that was the ocean. Sarel could only imagine the vibrant life that echoed itself below the waves, performing for no one but themselves, the truest understanding of nature was to be found under the ocean, Sarel thought. It was times like those where Sarel wondered if he were cut out to be a scientist. His attention was brought back to the deck when Share came up, ordering people to get the bodies off deck. Sarel had almost forgotten that the deck was slick with the hot blood of their enemies and that the moonlights only served to help him see the mounds of bodies pilled up around the edges like clumps of spider eggs.

Sarel threw a few of the bodies off board by himself, the weapons they carried were all they really had, and they were tossed to the bloody ground. After a few moments the deck actually looked livable. Sarel tuned to a tap on his shoulder, he found Serge’s smiling face to greet him. 

“I didn’t get to say when I saw you on the docks, It’s a damn pleasure to see you!” The Dunmer said, his hand resting on his friends shoulder. 

“Same to you.”

“And what made you change your mind?”

“Other than the fact that the Empire was ready to place my head on the block?” Serge’s smile spoke of the trueness of the statement. Sarel took the next few moments to think about what Serge had possibly done to deserve execution. “I won’t let a chance at gold slip away that easily” the Breton said finally. 

“But you’re a Breton, man!” Sarel quipped. “What of your honor, your integrity?” 

“Oh, damn that nonsense and damn the Empire while you’re at it.” Serge responded quickly. 

“What was the saying at Sentinel? Honors do…” Sarel snapped his fingers as he searched his decaying memory. 

“[i]’Honor is as honor does…’[/i]”

“[i]’and Bretons do.’[/i]” They completed together, Sarel with more enthusiasm than Serge. 

“Yep, I don’t think I have to tell you that that’s a load of bullocks.” The Breton said, he leaned against the bannister. 

“I don’t know, I generally find some scrupulousness in national sayings like that.” Sarel said easily, he too taking a leaning position on the bannister, his back facing the rest of the ship. 

“Don’t tell me you’re a nationalist Dunmer? I never thought I’d see one of those in this day and age.”

“Hardly. That’d be a sight to see. Well, it’s a damn walking oxymoron is what it is.” 

Serge chuckled heartily, offered Sarel a sip from a flask he conjured from seemingly nowhere. Sarel accepted, then noticed Sharee walking near him holding a corpse. Sarel tapped his Breton companion on the shoulder and pointed at the Argonian. 

“Recognize anyone?” he asked playfully. 

“Oh, the nine. What an interesting transformation.” Serge noted before putting his flask away. 

“There’s a lot more interesting things about her other than her uncanny ability to change her appearance.” Sarel said lowly, making sure Sharee couldn’t overhear him, as he spoke he thought about her abilities in the bed and he couldn’t figure out a way to say the words without drawing attention to that. To cover it up he spoke again, “She also happens to be the captain. I should introduce you.” Sarel walked toward the Argonian woman and gestured for Serge to follow. 

“If it isn’t too much trouble.” Serge joked as he followed. 

Sarel approached easily, he let the corpse she was carrying flop effortlessly into the deep. “Sharee,” he said unassumingly, “I’d like to introduce you to someone. Actually, you might already know him. This is Serge Yncan. Once an Imperial officer, he is now a member of this crew. He is the one you can thank for getting this ship off the docks.” Sarel stepped aside and leaned on a crate of oranges. 

“A pleasure to meet you, captain. My sword and my brain are fatefully at your service.” And then he bowed, as if joking.