Sarel felt a bit of residual embarrassment for Malakaus as he entered the room. He wondered if the Orc even remembered anything from the night before. Sarel remembered giving Malakaus some moonsugar, he chuckled, puffed from his pipe once more to stifle the laughter.

Sharee then mentioned something about officers, she was going to make this group of rabble rousers authority figures on the boat. That’s fine, as far as Sarel was concerned, they stood out anyway. When Noelle entered Serge was quick on the draw, “Hello,” he said slyly. Sarel slapped the Breton on the arm to quiet him, Noelle responded to Sharee.

“I’ll take it that these positions aren’t mandatory, you don’t need to take them.” Sarel said, directing it at the girl. He didn’t mean to be demeaning, but he could tell that that was how she would take it. “I’d like to hear what you had in mind, Sharee. I have some experience as an officer, Serge has tons more.”

“You are magnificent, what’s your name?” Serge leant against the table, directing his flirtations at Noelle.

Sarel simply stared at Serge for a moment, bewildered. Then he puffed his pipe again, relenting. “If there ever were a fool…” Sarel mused.

"I have kept all of your qualifications in mind for the positions I though of for each of you. There are some jobs that there are multiple good candidates for, and others that none of you will probably be good for. Still, we'll make due with what we have. As long as you all can act cohesively, this ship will run just fine. There are still a few that need to get their lazy tails over here, but for now, I might as well start with some of the more certain positions." Sharee said, standing up from her chair and walking over to Serge, snapping her fingers in front of him to grab his attention.

"I got one for you, ladies-man." She said sarcastically. "The position of quartermaster is the highest ranking on the ship, apart from me. In that role, you're pretty much in charge of taking care of the crew. Your job would be to keep everyone working well together. You have to deal with all their problems, and you'll inevitably end up with both their praises and complaints. Depending on how good you are at it, they'll either love you, or want to have you hanged. It's a lot of work, but you're trained, disciplined, and overall qualified. You accept the role and you'll be second in command of the men and women of this crew, as long as you can stop staring at their tails long enough to do it. So, will you take it?"

---

"That's quite the honor, Captain." Serge responded, "I'll gladly accept." Serge looked over at Noelle again, "You hear that? I'm the quartermaster." The Breton said childishly.

Sarel let an obnoxious laughter slip out. "I've got fifty septims down that he'll be walking the plank in a week. You want in on that Malakaus?"

Serge quickly turned to his friend, falsely incredulous. "Oi, have some respect for your quartermaster! I'll throw you in the brig, and all that." Serge was briefly distracted by the same grapes Sarel was earlier. "We do have a brig, don't we?" Serge asked over his palm-full of grapes.

"If we do, it'll probably see more use as a game parlor than anything else. Jail cells are the only appropriate place to throw dice." Sarel said half jokingly.

---

"If memory serves me, we do have a room on the bottom deck that can serve that purpose. If we ever take prisoners, or if any of the crew starts causing trouble, that's where they'll go." Sharee commented before looking at Serge with an intimidating glare, one that he wouldn't quite be able to tell if it was serious or joking. "Except you. Since you have all this power, I naturally have to hold you to a higher standard. I'll be keeping a close eye on you. If you start causing trouble, I won't lock you in a cell, I'll lock you up in my quarters for the night, and I promise it won't be nearly as...pleasurable as that would normally entail."

Before Serge could give a response, Sharee turned from him towards Sarel. "Now, as for the next position, you said you know quite a lot about ships and sailing, right Sarel? A fair number of our sailors are good with repairs, but right now, we don't have an officer organizing them. We need a boatswain to be in charge of organizing all the maintenance for the ship. Can you handle that?"

Listening intently to the captain, Malakaus had mixed feelings about being an officer. On one hand, during his life as a bandit, he often did feel that he should have had more power in the gang than just making and maintenance their equipment. On the other hand, he had just that chance when he returned to his tribe, and he denied it because he felt that he couldn't live up to the responsibilities. He wondered for a moment if this was merely another test for him if he ever wanted to return back to his tribe and reclaim power. He soon dismissed these thoughts; he was never returning again. And this was just another job. "You're making a good choice, captain. I'll make sure those other louts outside get to working like they should. Unless you have something else you want me to handle? Construction and repairs, perhaps?" He did show off some of his maintenance skills yesterday when he refurbished those balistas all by himself. But he was also certain that he was all by himself during that time, so maybe Sharee didn't know about that. Still, having a pure combat role would be a waste of his talents; everyone here was combat capable, so having him lead a fight would be redundant at best. But maybe having the biggest orcs take lead could inspire the others into fighting harder, though if he knew anything about working with cut throats like these pirates, they'll be willing to let Malakaus throw himself to the sharks if it means they could sneak around to stab both the enemy and him in the back. He had a healthy dose of paranoia when it came to leading men in battle.

Cynric eyes snapped open as he jolted awake. He had fallen asleep after what he could only assume from the people around him was a good night of celebrating and drinking. After all the work he had done he had expected a bit more then a pat on the back but he did disobey Sharee's orders. Not that he was worrying.he felt that his loyalty had been shown and this woman did make him nervous when she was around. Not that he would show it As he lit his pipe with fiery finger he was approached by one of Sharee's men who he had talked to before he had fallen asleep. "Captain wants to see you." Cynric nodded. "Be best if you hurry yourself to her, she doesn't like to be kept waiting. Oh, here's the note that she told me to give to you"

"I understand, look i'm getting up and going." Cynric walked to the meeting looking over the small piece of paper. it had written on it the location of the meeting which Cynric was hurrying to get to. Not that he would be late but he wanted to stay in Sharee's good books. There were already a handful of people here, most of these people Cynric recognised. "Captain you wanted me?"

"Yes Cynric, come in, and shut the door behind you. I'm promoting officers." Sharee explained quickly before turning her attention to the Orc. "Well, Malakaus, Sarel is in charge of repairs and maintenance, so he can tell you if he needs you. As for you, I did notice that you got those ballistas working, on your own initiative, even. You seem to be good at leading people, or at the very least, loud enough that they'll listen to you, so I'm making you weaponmaster. Basically, you're in charge of everything offensive on this ship, including maintaining and upgrading the ballistas. You'll also be in charge of the crew operating them whenever we're in a fight.

Deciding that she was done wasting time waiting, Sharee immediately moved on to her next officer. "Noelle, I saw you in the infirmary after we cleared the ship, and the bit of information you gave Kilith before you signed up says you have knowledge on healing. And, even if you deny it, I saw you trying to take charge when you were storming the middle deck, so I know you're perfectly comfortable with ordering people around. That is why I am putting you in charge of the infirmary. I don't care if you are or are not the best restorationist we have, or if you even do the healing yourself; I only care that you keep our people in good health. We have other healers and alchemists, so you'll be in charge of them. You will be making sure that the infirmary has everything it needs and is running smoothly."

Lastly, Sharee motioned for Cynric to approach her. The necromancer was one of her more interesting crew members, at least as far as his skills were concerned. Even if he didn't listen properly, his cooking was excellent, something that seemed unimportant, but could raise morale during a long voyage. More importantly, he could make sure their food was safe to eat so that the crew remained in good health. "And you, Cynric, are obviously our chef. You'll keep everyone well fed and their spirits high, but more importantly, you'll also be in charge of keeping our food stores safe and sanitary. Make sure our food doesn't rot before we can eat it, and that it isn't riddled with disease. It doesn't matter how good of fighters we have if half my crew is dying of dysentery. That also means you are in charge of general sanitation on the ship. Now, to answer your question before you ask, no, this does not mean you are going to be spending your days swabbing the deck, but it does mean you are in charge of the ones who are. Your job is one of the most important there is for daily life on this ship, so if we end up with maggots in our breakfast, I'm going to force feed them to you."

With the roles of everyone that was present assigned, Sharee decided to move on to the next order of business so the others could all get to work more quickly. "Now, in addition to your roles aboard the ship, I have taken note of the combat capability among all of you. That means that I am probably going to end up taking the lot of you with me on tasks that require small groups. In larger fights, though, I want to make sure our fighters have proper leadership. It is for that reason that I have taken the list of our surviving crew and divided the combat capable ones up among you. I want each of you to be in charge of a small group of three or four. You will lead them and make sure they work well together when it is time to fight." Sharee walked over to her table, grabbed a small stack of parchments, then passed them out among her officers. "Each of these contains a list of a few names with descriptions of what they are good at...or at least what they said they were good at. I recommend talking to them to make sure they have the skills they say they do, and just to get familiar with them. Think of them as your own personal team. Now, I recognize that not all of you might be well suited to that particular kind of job, so if you don't think you're cut out lead a group like that, tell me now and I'll find someone else."

As Sharee explained what everyone's job was, Noelle took a moment to think about it. She really wasn't confident in leading people, but than again, this position will allow her to have much more authority in the crew. It was up to her to "Keep our people in good health". "Best way to do that is to keep our enemies in bad health, no?" She thought to herself. While she can certainly start setting up a shop for making healing tonics, anti-poisons, and cures for diseases, her biggest concern was getting the components for her poisons. But as she learned in the Arcane University, poisons and medicine are often the same thing given for different reasons. Noelle would just have to make sure to play her cards right to keep both a well stocked for both.

"Yes Captain!" Than Noelle was given a note containing a few names. There was four people, with their names, races, and skills listed with each of them. There was Naaji and Omdran, both khajiits, Gaius Prentus the Imperial, and Corrira the Altmer of all things. The khajiits were rather bog-standard as far as Noelle was concerned about; they were both sneaky-thief types who can handle a bow and daggers, though Naaji mentions being a much more skilled unarmed fighter. Noelle supposed that now at least she'll have her range options as long as she can keep those two alive. Gaius Prentus is a former Imperial Guardsman, but has been discharged due to mental sickness. Noelle didn't like that implications behind that, but he was one of their all-around best when it come to combat; he was good with any type of blade be it a dagger, longsword, or greatsword, proficient in archery, and can use armor and shields easily. She'd have to see him herself to make sure he won't be a liability though. Corrira was well educated in Destruction and Conjuration magic, and for some reason Mysticism. This means that with him her group would be able to cover all the magic classes currently known, which Noelle had small comfort in. She was mostly worried about the idea that Corrira had no combat skills outside his magic; even Noelle knows her way around her weapon. But that's just something else she'll need to deal with personally.

Folding the note into one of her pockets Noelle turned her attention back towards the captain. "Is there anything else you need from us, captain?"

Suddenly there were yet more people in the room. Serge felt claustrophobic and Sarel was just a little annoyed, they both wanted to get above deck. Sarel simply nodded when Sharee gave him the position of Boatswain, he could do that job blindfolded and drunk. When Malakaus asked about maintenance on the ship, and Sharee respectfully directed him to Sarel, the Dunmer waved his pipe at the Orc, gave a smile, and said, “See me later with anything you may need, Malakaus.”

Just as Sarel put the pipe back in his mouth he was given a list of names. Two of them were imperials, one was a Redguard, and the other was a Khajiit. The Imperials were brothers from Cheydinhall, the Redguard was from the Imperial city, and the Khajiit was from Leyawiin. The brothers were experienced spearmen, good for ambushes and defensive positions. The Redguard used spiked knuckles, and the Khajiit used daggers apparently. Sarel felt like this team would be a disaster in combat. But, in reality, it would matter little since Sarel was a master tactician, he could make the worst teams work in tandem effortlessly. Serge looked proud, he got a Khajiit kitten, barely a day into adulthood, and a Breton woman along with a nord male. A solid team, he said.

When Noelle posed her question Sarel stood from his leaning position. He held the pipe between his teeth as he tucked the parcel into his armor pockets. “I figure not. I better get to work, captain.” Sarel said as he made his way toward the door, intent to find the members of his team and set them straight.

“I ought to do the same. Wait up, Sarel! I need to ask you something.” Serge says as he retreats with the Dunmer. He wrapped his arm around his friend’s armored frame and the two began commiserating like schoolboys.

"Weaponmaster, eh?" Malakaus allowed this thought to roll around his head. He's worked with some ships in the past, most imperial ships for repairs and such. Nothing he's inexperienced with, but boats were never really his strong suit. Still, with his mastery of his craft, there wasn't much he couldn't handle. It'll just take some time trying to understand the mechanics of boats and what he'll have to work with. He imagined that he'll be talking to Sarel a lot. A thought sprang into his mind, and he made a mental note that he'd need to find some skilled alchemists on board the ship. But before he'd go crazy with his ideas he was handed a piece of paper with his gang of fighters. Two orcs, two Argonians, and a Bosmer. Malakaus smirked as he read off their names and abilities.

Sufficient to say, he'd have a lot of work a head of him. The orcs weren't too bad as far as fighting went, one liked using warhammers while the other was a conjurer. Apparently they were a couple, which Malakaus had some concerns with. A more conservative orc might be more worried about both of them being female orcs, but Malakaus was more worried that they'd be too attached to each other. Love is a powerful force in the universe however. He'll figure out something to make it work. The Argonians were going to be a bit more of a problem; it did not mention if either of them had any sort of martial ability. They were both Alchemists, one of them was a scribe and the other a tax consultant. The orc wasn't sure which one was worse. Still, if they couldn't help him in a fight, than he had just the right job for them. Now the bosmer was an odd one.He almost seemed too perfect. Not only was he good with his bow and sword, but he also has a hand in restoration and destruction, was a professional armorer and "Radiates Natural Charisma". Malakaus called shenanigans and made up his mind that the bosmer would be the first he checks up on. And perhaps the first he throws overboard, if he has to.

It appeared that group was more or less dismissed from Sharee's office. "To work than." Malakaus bowed his head and left. Though he did think of seeing that Bosmer first, he had some things he wanted to get done. He went back to his bunk to retrieve his things, but what was most important was a large roll of parchment. On it was a detailed rune-pattern; his enchanting map. On here he can enchant items and create magical scrolls, so long as he knows what sort of magic he's using and has the required materials. Dropping a few amulets from yesterday's raid, Malakaus got to working on giving them powers he felt would be needed for working on the ship.

Cynric was happy at with his new position and understood the responsibility in it, the new captain made a valid point. Without good food and nutrition this ship would fall apart faster then a nord with no Ale. Great warriors on this ship dieing not by the blade but by scurvy or Iron deficiency. While everyone else had some use in his mind Cynric's job was the most important and carried the heaviest burden and responsibility. He took the parchment that was handed to him. Opening the paper he grimaced. None of thee three people listed in his roster were in any way skilled chefs. Only one had any sort of culinary skill and he was an orc! Cynric stopped himself if he remembered a famous chef had once been an orc. Cynric made a mental note to not judge this man too quickly.

Looking down the list he saw that the orc was a skilled alchemist and smith as well as having strong hand to hand skill. Now that he reflected upon the orc he realise all of the use he could be. But these other two. By the nine they were both bards. What could he do with two dancing women. They were both imperials and were skilled fighters but from what he read they were of no use as cooks. Cynric was sure he would be able to make something of them. He looked upon the list as a sculptor looks upon clay. How could he mold these two bards into works of art? For the moment he would have to make do with them.

Cynric bowed to Sharee. "It seems captain, that I have a lot of work to do. Though what I have here will suffice. Although captain I could probably make an excellent meal out of maggots. Let me assure you that I will let NOTHING go to waste." Cynric now addressed the whole room. "I will ensure that you are all fed well and enjoy your meals. I will need to know of anything you are allergic to so that I don't accidently kill you. You can also be safe in the knowledge that I everything will taste exquisite!" Cynric left the room with a swish of his cloak leaving behind a small cloud of smoke. Entering his beloved kitchen he saw that his new trainees looking around at the kitchen the orc was looking through the cupboards getting his head around what was here and what was not. The two imperial women were chatting to each other and laughing one of them was sitting on the kitchen suffice. Wait.

Cynric bellowed with anger launching a spear made from bone at the women. She promptly dodged it drawing her short sword she entered a fighting stance. She stopped when she recognised Cynric. Cynric face was full of anger.

"WE PREPARE FOOD ON THOSE SURFACES! YOU DO NOT PLACE YOUR BEHIND ON THEM! DO YOU KNOW WHERE THAT ASS OF YOURS HAS BEEN?!" The orc looked at Cynric with respect, perhaps he was more of a chef then he thought he was. However the two imperials were almost foaming at the mouth. Cynric quickly regained his composure. "Well that was not the best start now was it. Hello my name is Cynric. Yes I am a necromancer, but I have no wish to enslave your souls or any of that rubbish. I am also the Head Chef and you are my Commis. For those of you that do know what that means you are now all cooks working under me. It is me who must whip you into shape and make you excellent cooks and hopefully great chefs. Oh, I will need to know your names"

The Orc answered first. "My name is Ug'woa I have had some training as a Chef however my master died from disease during the winter and I have yet to find a new one."

Cynric smiled just as he had thought. Next the two imperials spoke they both had very strangely coloured hair one Bright Pink the other Bright Green. Must be a bard thing. He thought to himself.

Pink voice was full of happiness and almost uncontainable excitement. "My name is Yalera"

Green the imperial he had fired the bone spear at quickly replied "And my name is Arelay, Sorry for the table thing it wont happen again. I'm a lover not a fighter"

Cynric scoffed "I bet you are Arelay. Why is it that you have the same name as Yalera but backwards?"

Yalera giggled as Arelay replied. 'Well Cynric."

Cyrnic stopped her. "You will call me Chef, or Sir when you address me."

Yalera giggled even louder as Arelay continued form where she was interrupted. "Well, Sir. We are a performing Duo who have been all over Tamriel. We have performed for nobles and even Kings! We're like celebrities on this boat!" The pair began to giggle ferociously as Ug'woa looked at them and sadly shook his head.

Cynric massaged his brow slowly, this was going to take a lot of work.

After the first group was taken care of, Sharee waited in her cabin and assigned roles to the late-arriving officers over the next hour or so. She would have been angrier about the delay if it weren't for the celebration the night before. Even she wasn't so hypocritical as to yell at someone else for drinking too much at a celebration she started. Eventually, all officer roles were assigned and they could begin familiarizing themselves with their duties. For Sharee herself, she spent most of the day supervising the other officers and seeing how well they performed. There were definite downsides to recruiting mercenaries for the crew in that not all roles had many people that knew how to perform them. Some of the crew members were having to learn entirely new skills to fulfill their duties, which meant they were going to have some growing pains over the next few weeks as everyone settled in to life at sea. Still, they had gotten farther than Sharee expected, so she couldn't complain.

The next few days were much more calm than the first. The crew was slowly getting better, though that didn't stop Sharee from yelling and cursing at anyone who made too big of a mistake. She often drank and joked around with the crew quite often as well, but her demeanor could reverse in an instant. However, she always made sure that her attitude matched the crew's performance. If they were doing well, she would either be in a good mood, or would just go off by herself if she was in a bad mood. Despite their flaws, the crew was effective enough, and the ship was being kept in perfectly good condition. There were only a few details Sharee needed to take care of before they could go farther into Dominion waters. Namely, she needed to have all Imperial markings removed from the ship and change its name. For that, she already had something in mind.

After about three days at sea, the ship finally made port in the city of Mistral on the island of Khenarthi's Roost early in the morning. It was a small city on a small island, but it was just large enough to be interesting. Sharee would need to speak to the docking authority soon to clear them to stay for much longer, so she was approaching the situation with all of the respectability and professionalism as one could expect from her...which of course meant she would passed out drunk and naked on the floor of her cabin, having not even made it to her bed the previous night. While Sharee was an expert assassin, a tactical genius, and a highly-trained fighter, she was far from being without flaws when it came to being a leader.

After Malakaus finished enchanting the amulets, he got to work gauging the abilities of his group. He quickly discovered that the Bosmer was, at best, a very good liar. A sham at worse. His skills with the sword and bow was only good enough for him to land a death blow on weaken foes, which was reflective on his fighting style; a lot of evasion masked as some sort of technical footwork, striking only when he thought his enemy had no more energy left. But Malakaus wasn't just some drunken highwayman. Once he figured out the Bosmer's tactics, he quickly cornered him and gave him a thrashing. Even the Bosmer's magic was flashy but inefficient. Big explosions, but weak effect. They work better as flares than they did as means of destruction. His restoration ability was decent enough to heal himself after Malakaus beat him within an each of his life though. His armorer skills seemed to at least be fact, as he was formerly a Fletcher and tailor. His name was even Fletcher. But that also meant that, aside from maybe crafting them some arrows or disguises, the Bosmer wouldn't be good for weapon crafting or more intricate repairs. Malakaus set him start pulling the Imperial Emblems off the ship while he dealt with the others.

The two orcs, Harasha And Sheol, were more competent in their fight than the bosmer. Harasha definitely knew how to handle her warhammer, and while Sheol was reckless she was quite able to keep up with Malakaus. However he sensed a certain amount of animosity directed towards him during the meeting. The scars on Harasha suggested that she was once a slave at some point in her life, while Sheol was fairly well-kept for someone who wishes to be a pirate. He didn't know what their backstory was, and they weren't interested in telling him right now. He had them head down into the decks and find all and any dusty metal bits they can find. He had noticed that a lot of the crew was using either iron or steel; that might work for your rank-and-file Imperial Soldier, but Malakaus wanted to make sure that his fighters were better equipped than what their opponents would be.

After sending the two orcs off he went to see the Argonians. He initially had his doubts that they'd be useless to him since they seemed scholarly, but there was a different problem than that; they didn't like each other. When he found them they were having some sort of argument about some loot they found. It was a greater soul gem which they wanted for their own ends. Malakaus solved the issue by taking it for himself. He than made it clear to the two of them that they would be working together for him, or they could both have broken skulls because of him. While he didn't necessarily like threatening people into submission, least of all his subordinates, he was not going to humor their petty grievances. After straitening them out he got them their jobs; he showed them how to use his Enchanting Map as well as Scroll Smithing. Their jobs would be to provide a variety of magical scrolls for the crew to use, as well as enchanting their weapons. For a service fee, of course. He also had them work on some explosive powders he wanted to make for the balistas, or at least to get him a list of what they'd need for that. They'd give him something to use by tomorrow.

The next few days were spent giving his gang, which he called the Typhoon Warriors, and the rest of the underlings orders on getting him spare parts from the ship. This also included their own weapons and armor, which were still of fairly low quality. While he tried not to monopolize them, Malakaus used most of these materials to create new equipment for the crew, as well as given them minor enchantments to give them an edge on their enemies. Since they were sea-faring fighters, he had to ensure that their armor was mostly light; he needed to make sure that they had full mobility while giving them ample protection in the event they do a ship-raid. To this end, he designed most of the armor to have Laminated Wood for those using light armor, and Splitmail for those preferring heavy armor. The Laminated Wood armor was lighter than most of the crew's chainmail (If a bit cumbersome) and would be more resistant to solid blows thanks to using multiple layers instead of a single plate. The same idea was used for the Splitmail; instead of relying on one single metal plate, he broke it down to multiple layers that covered a larger area. While he can't say that they're more protected, this way he had more materials to work with, allowing him to better equip most of the crew. He also upgraded anyone using iron weapons to a more solid steel, using some of the materials he found to create the alloy. But the most important improvement he made was to create and arm each person with a crossbow, if they didn't already have a bow. Most of their battles would be ship-to-ship, and it didn't matter if you could cleave a tombstone in half with your barehands; you can't punch fifty yards away.

In between all the coordinating and the shouting, Malakaus made a bit of a reputation for himself on the ship. He was considered a hard officer to please, and a quick one to anger. But he always rewarded those who did their jobs, and he rewarded them well. He also took the time to try to give them something to work on that they could feel makes them important on the ship. He would, as he tells them, make square holes for square cubes (This was also his own way to subtle call them Squares). Though he has thrown overboard a few crew members who tried to use their kinship with him to get away with work or abusing others. While he always made sure to tie a rope onto them before tossing them overboard, he made it clear that this wasn't favoritism that he was using; it was a simple matter of rewarding them based on their results. Those who tried to cheat their way into his good graces found themselves dangling over the bow of the ship. This made him the enemy of some of the more craftier types, including the crew's smoothtalkers and rogues, while gaining the respect from those in the crew who value hard work and having a staunch code of honor. There was, however, another issue with Malakaus ordering around those working for other Officers. While he's quick to drop the issues, recently he seems to have taken it upon himself to command all underlings, regardless for who's authority they act on.

About three days later after the crew took over the ship, they arrived to Khenarthi's Roost. Small place, barely a city, but it was within the Dominion's waters, if just at it's edge. While his group did what they needed to to be rid of any signs that this was an Imperial Ship, it also left them mostly naked Armor wise. As the although he's the weaponmaster, getting armor for the ship is just as important as getting weapons for it too. To that end he hopes to obtain some elven metal here; while steel would make for a more durable armor, elven is only a little bit weaker but much lighter. Though he imagined that steel would come cheaper, and if they didn't have enough Elven metal here to work into the ship, he'd settle for steel and save the Elven for weapons. He roused his Typhoon Warriors awake and had them armor up. He made it clear to them that they weren't hitting port to (Just) relax off the ship. They could drink and party and get friendly with the locals after their jobs were done. He had them wait on the deck as the ship was getting docked, while he himself put on his full armor. While this may make him seem partly like an invader, last thing he needed was to get jumped by a couple of skooma-addicts thinking him to be an easy target just because he's new here.

After leaving Sharee's office Noelle went to check up on her own group. The khajiits behaved themselves well enough around her, though she did catch them trying to peek onto some women changing into their work clothes. Pranksters, but as long as they only do harmless jokes, she'd tolerate them. Gaius was a stoic individual to the point of boredom. He answered Noelle's plainly, even personal ones like his family, career, and his sex life (She asked him just to try to throw him off his game). While she did notice that he did his best not to make eye contact and kept outside of arm's distance from her, he seemed to just be a very stoic and no-nonsense warrior. Noelle decided that she was done talking to him for now, but she knew that he was still hiding something from her, and she was going to figure it out before it would come to bite her in the ass. The altmer initially did come off as a haughty bastard, but after Noelle quickly proved to be a magical and intellectual equal, he was quick to submit to her. She tried to let him off easy, but when he pressed hard on her Noelle didn't pull her punches (Figuratively). The next few days she spent organizing what she had in mind for them, from their role on the ship, their strategies when fighting together, and what she wanted them to do should they hit land.

Than came to the matter of what her job specifically was when she wasn't working with her group. The ship's infirmary was a mess, to say the least; they had enough supplies to deal with some light wounds and maybe a single outbreak, but if an extreme emergency hit them now they would only survive by the seat of their pants. What she had to cobble together would be able to handle wounds well enough, but they lacked tools and materials she'd need to ensure that no one is diseased or dies of poison. When asked, there wasn't many here who were certified healers either; even those with a little Restoration magic only had enough to cure light wounds for themselves, let alone for others or with more serious wounds. She managed to get together about five others who's skills with magic was enough to teach them how to remove poisons and disease, but none of them worked for her specifically and could possibly leave for whatever reason. She used some of her guile and illusion magic to convince them to remain within the Infirmary, serving as it's permanent staff.

The next issue she had to tackle was alchemy supplies. Not only for her potions but also to create poisons for the crewmembers. Not everything she used could simply be left in satchels or barrels; some needed to be preserved, salted, or frozen. This meant keeping them with the food; some of what she needed for her crafts is food. But Cynric was the one in charge of keeping the kitchen, which was the only place that had a suitable area for her to store some of her reagents. Noelle tried not to make too much of a fuss about it by getting creative with frost magic, but that would only hold her over for so long. She needed at least one entire room to preserve much of the reagents for her alchemy. But if she could convince the captain to create a garden on the ship, that would eliminate much of her problems with keeping her supplies fresh.

Eventually the ship hit port on the island of Khenarthi's Roost. Noelle's never been here before, and in fact never traveled in the Aldmeri Dominion. She didn't really have much interest in it's policies, to say the least. She didn't know why the captain wanted to stop here, or even sail into the Dominion's waters. She's heard tales of their warships and how they would fling the most destruction of fire and lighting on their enemies. Mostly this came from tales of their clash with the Maormer, another group she'd rather not have too many dealings with. While information on the Maormer was small and mostly stories, she doesn't want to add another enemy on her list, nor risk the wrath of the Dominion by being their ally. But ultimately, this was the captain's decision. And wanting to know what Sharee thinks, Noelle headed to the Captain's cabin and knocked on her door. "Captain, we've arrived to Khenarthi's Roost! Captain?"

Noelle waited patiently outside Sharee's room for a short while. She remembered seeing the captain drink quite heavily the day before, and has even prepared a somewhat tasteful hangover tea. Noelle kept knocking on the door with one hand, and when her two khajiits arrived, she had them unlock the door while Noelle spoke over them. "Captain, I'm coming in to inform you of my plans for today, as well as to obtain any orders you might have for us." Once the door was open Noelle entered the cabin and saw Sharee naked on the floor, lightly snoring. Snooing away her two subordinates, Noelle locked the door behind her and made her tea. Once she had set up a rudiment breakfast, Noelle lightly nudged the captain. "Captain, you're asleep on the floor. Naked. Aren't you cold? Anyways, we've arrived to the docks of Khenarthi's Roost. If you don't have any orders for the officers or the crew, there are some things I'd like to collect while we're here. There's also the matter of adding some new additions to the ship. I believe we've spoken about adding a garden project?" Before Sharee awakens, Noelle cast another illusion on herself that would make herself seem more appealing to Sharee, to assist in convincing her to agree with Noelle. And just in case that still doesn't work, Noelle casted another spell that would increase Sharee's disposition to Noelle, if her own magical charm didn't do the trick.

Sharee was not quick to awaken, but nevertheless, she started to stir as someone nudged her. Before her eyes were even open, she smelled the scent of tea, of all things. Once she did open her eyes, she immediately regretted it due to the light shining in her window. She groaned and rolled over onto her back, keeping her eyes closed for a few more seconds. All the while, she heard a familiar voice saying a lot of words next to her, but she didn't catch most of them immediately after waking. When she finally opened her eyes, she was quite surprised to see that it was Noelle standing over her, and even more surprised at her first thoughts upon looking at her. For whatever reason, Noelle seemed quite appealing to her once again, which gave Sharee the wrong idea of what happened between them to put them in their current situation.

Once she was awake enough to start moving, Sharee slowly brought herself to her feet and stretched out her muscles, trying the entire time not to look at the nearby window. Instead, she ended up standing rather close to Noelle and looking at her from head to toe. For whatever reason, she seemed appealing to Sharee, a thought that caused her quite a bit of confusion. She had thought the same thing a few days ago, when they first captured the ship, but for the next few days up until now, everything seemed normal. She didn't look at Noelle any differently than any other female crew member, but now, all of the sudden, she seemed a lot more appealing. Something didn't make sense. "Wait, did we end up sleeping together last night or something?" Sharee asked once she was awake enough to speak coherently.

The smuggling ship arrived at the dock, a crew mate sounded a loud horn. The captain barked orders back in forth, as the crew tied ropes to the dock. Kahl took a deep sigh, as he sheathed his dagger and begun to stuff all of the food he could into a small pouch. He tied the pouch to his belt and started to emerge from his bunk. The smell of salt filled his nose, at first it was bliss until he heard the loud yelling from the captain.

"Wake up, anchor the ship. Some one get me some ale!"

The crew fumbled around, as they tried to get all the orders done quickly enough so they don't anger the captain. Kahl saw this as his chance, he could just run. It would all be over and this would be his new home. "Yeah!" he thought to himself, "this is what I want!". Kahl eyed the dock and begun to make a run for it. Knocked over two crew mates as Kahl sped past them. The world turned into a blur as he heard yelling behind him. The commotion left everyone confused.

"You!" the captain pointed to one of the ship mates.
"Go get him, and bring him back here! And get me some Ale too!"

Kahl darted into an ally way, the dark elf followed him in pursuit. He Wove in and out of the back roads and spotted some boxes. He climbed onto them and reached for the roof of a house, but lost his balance. Kahl came crashing to the floor, quickly he got up and panicked. The Dark elf turned his head and laughed, "I've got you now!" He said as he begun to walk around the corner. Kahl tensed up and reached for his dagger. The moment the elf walked around the corner, Kahl lunged for his neck. The Dagger cutting through like butter, the elf's eyes turned white as the crimson liquid stains the blade. kahl's mind filled with terror as he retracted his blade, he sheathed it and ran down another road. He tripped and falled in front of a building.

Kahl tilted his head to read the sign. His vision was somewhat blurry from the fall but he made out the word tavern. He pulled himself up and made his way inside. Drunken laughter filled his ears as he walked to a table in the corner. He sat in the chair facing the door, shaking he watched people enter, prepared to duck if he saw one of the crew members.

Sarel got to know his squad with little effort, they were all almost entirely forthright, and all of them were combat eligible. The brothers, Caseer and Marc were affable young men with a penchant for mischief, chiefly during conversations. They were indiscriminate assholes, but charming none-the-less. Clearly Sharee understood Sarel by now, he was a killer and a tactician, and his primary use should always be security detail. The four people he was given were perhaps the most apt killers on the boat aside from those in the officer roles.

On the last day on the water, with only a few minutes before landfall, Sarel and Serge met above deck to talk about their squad, and generally catch a breath of sociability and friendliness. As the two highest officers, aside from the captain, on board Sarel and Serge were the go-to men for problems and requests. Sarel already had a running list of materials and supplies to get on land, he’d need to speak to Sharee in order to clear it with the budget. Mostly he needed lumber, some metal, some copper, and about 300 feet of rope. And, if he could manage it, a good deal of masting canvas.

Sarel leaned against the ledge of the starboard side of the boat, the imposing body of Elsweyr set behind the beautiful lushness of Khenarthi’s Roost. The small Moonsugar plantations which dot the islands let off small stacks of white smoke into the air, signaling their whereabouts. Sarel’s crimson eyes peered into the deep blue water below him as the boat ripped along it’s majestic surface. Sarel could make out the elongated forms of a small school of Sea Elves riding along the side of the ship. He swore, through the murkiness of the ocean, and the reflected light from the glorious sun above, that he had made eye-contact with one of the water elves. Sarel had done business with these things before, he knew their tactics. If they were this close to land, they were safe. Usually these things made their attack just as land came into view. So that was another danger Sarel could scratch off his list, just as the Sea Elves vanished even further into the depths.
Serge snuck up behind his friend and patted him on the shoulder, scaring the Elf. “How is it, old man?” he said.

“You nearly frightened me half to death.”

“Goodness, Sarel, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Serge looked genuinely concerned, and he was right to be. Sarel was a bit pale, sweating even.

“I—I was just thinking.” He responded. In truth, he was thinking about his encounter with the Sea Elves which guarded the waters into Akaviir, truly vicious and fearsome foes. Thinking of that also brought back the memories of his times spent on Akaviir, the memories were like daggers to his psyche, there was a physiological link.
“Well, we’re about to make landfall. I’ve spoken with those men you borrowed last night. They finished scrapping off the sigils and markings this morning. They’re waiting for your word on what to do with the scaffold.”

“Ah, yes. Tell them to take it down to the brig, we can dismantle it there if we need wood, I’d like to keep it around in case we need to do painting while docked however.” Sarel responded dryly. He took a flask from his coat pocket which held a cranberry whisky mixture he was able to concoct with whatever Cynric let him take from the kitchen. It was sweet and sour and hot and it made him feel like he was bathing in fine oils, for only a moment. Sarel was wearing a quilted vest atop a white blouse, his katana was fitted conspicuously at his side.

“How are you?” He asked Serge.

“Quite well, I took that little kitty to bed last night.”

“Goodness man, haven’t you any decency?”

“I had trouble reading as a child and I always thought people meant decadence. Is that an excuse?” Serge was full of himself, quite proud of his slick wordplay.

“If you were speaking to a red-headed concubine in Bravil, perhaps. Especially after you said it in that Breton accent.”

“And why in Oblivion would a concubine and myself be discussing my decency? You’d think we’d have better things to discuss, or not to.” Serge joked, giving his friend a despicable wink which set off a laughing fit between the two of them.

“You consider yourself quite the spectacle don’t you?” Sarel rebuttled, amused.

“Only on the weekends. Let’s go, let’s get this ship in docking order.” Serge shifted in an instant into Quartermaster, with the sophistication only a soldier’s experience can bring. He belted off order to bring masts down and around, along with Sarel. The two worked in tandem to organize the ship to meet the land.

And in only moments the docking ramp was down and a Khajiit in Thalmor leather approached the ship, he held a clipboard and his pockets and satchels were full. “Hello, quite a ship you have.”

“She sails,”Sarel responded tactfully.

“It looks a lot like an Imperial vessel. As in, military.” The Khajiit made reasonable suggestions, he also had a glint of a scoundrel in him, despite his official demeanor. However, it was hard to find a Khajiit who didn’t have a little scoundrel in him.

“Ships made in the Empire tend to look the same. It’s nothing you need to worry about.” Sarel responded, adding a smile at the end.

“Right. I assume you know of the docking fee, we’re careful but fair here on the island.” The Khajiit said, seeming to let the issue go.

“How much would that be?” Sarel asked, removing his pipe from his other pocket, it was already filled.

“Five hundred.” The cat said easily. Sarel lit his pipe, nodded.

“Sounds fair, could you speak with the captain, Serge?”

“Gladly.” And with that Serge was heel-toeing down to the captains quarters.

Sarel turned to see Malakaus gearing up facing the dock, he seemed as intent to get off as Sarel. “Could me and you go speak off of the ship? I’d like to have dry land under my feet.”

“I’m afraid,” the Khajiit began. Sarel shook his flask in front of the Khajiit, who quickly changed his mood. “—that more of your friends can’t join us.” He beckoned Sarel to follow him down the ramp as he took the flask.

Sarel turned over to his Orc friend, “Malakaus, follow me. I’m going ashore to settle some business so we can dock properly, and I don’t want my back open.” Sarel spoke respectfully to his comrade, yet still with some authority. The elf followed the Khajiit off of the boat and onto land, where he could stand without having to adjust his weight, freely. His skin had returned to it’s dark blue complexion, so his skin was like a dark stone in the sunlight.

Serge reached the Captains deck only a few moments after he left Sarel. He walked through the open door to see Sharee lying naked on the ground. Breakfast had been prepared along with some tea. Noelle, the girl whom he’d flirted with a few days earlier, and whom he’d seen on the ship over the past days, was standing over the captain. Serge helped himself to a cup of tea, as the duo didn’t seem to notice him, and took a sip. “This is quite good,” he spoke gently and smartly. He was dressed rather handsomely and his hair was slicked back. “Captain, pleasure to see you like this, really. I thought I’d be the last one on the boat.” Segre joked. “We’ve docked, we need to pay a docking fee to hold over here. Five hundred, he said. Sarel seems in accordance. I don’t know how this works but it seems legitimate.” Serge decided to give his opinion before the captain asked for it, which might have been a mistake. All the same, he drank some tea and stole pieces of Sharee’s prepared meal.

Sharee noticed Serge enter the room, but didn't care enough to say anything until she had a few moments to wake up. Before Noelle could respond to her, Serge finally spoke up. Despite her splitting headache, she glanced at him and laughed. "Thought you would be the last? Honestly, with the reputation you've gathered over the last few days, I'm surprised you haven't been flirting with me since the beginning...a real shame." She responded teasingly, looking him over once with a smirk.

It was very apparent that Sharee was not bothered in the slightest by her current state of dress, as she sat down at the table next to Serge as if nothing at all was wrong. She leaned forward with her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. Rubbing her temple with her fingers, she let out another groan. "I really should stop drinking this much." She said, a comment she had echoed countless times over the past few years. Without a word, she looked over at Serge and snatched the tea out of his hands so she could finish it off herself.

"You said something about a docking authority, right? There is one of those pretty much everywhere. I'll talk to them. We don't have all that much gold left, but we should be able to pay it. We don't want to rile up the local authorities before we have identified a mark. We're here looking for a skooma smuggling vessel to follow out of this backwater island, so while everyone is off on shore enjoying themselves, they should keep an eye out." Sharee commented.

Ja'Ranjo was walking the streets of Khenarthi's Roost, enjoying the weather of his homeland once more. It had been years since he had been in his homeland, and it almost felt alien to him. The people walking among the streets steered clear of the Khajiit, and not without reason. He had been in Khenarthi's Roost for only a few days, and on the third day he had been there, a thief tried to grab his coinpurse. Ja'Ranjo summoned a sword and cut the thief's head clean off, then without another thought, looted the body for extra gold and used it to buy himself some drinks that night and rented a room at the tavern so he wouldn't have to sleep on the streets.

Sitting inside the the tavern at a back corner, he sipped a bit of his ale and watched as a Khajiit stumbled in and almost dove into a seat at an empty table. Ja'Ranjo sat watching the arrival curiously, wondering why he was so nervous. It couldn't have been skooma; the kid wasn't shaking from good feels, that much was clear. Ja called the Khajiit taking care of the customers over. "Why is little fur over there so nervous?" The 'waiter' looked to the shaking adolescent and back to Ja. "I saw him on a ship out in the docks. One of those Skooma Dealers' ships. That's all I know. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm not paid to gossip like a common house cat." The Khajiit went back to going from table to table.

Ja'Ranjo bought another bottle of ale. When it arrived at his table, he took it and started walking for the door. As Ja passed the scared Khajiit's table, he set the bottle down in front of him. "You look like you need it my friend, no offense." Ja left the tavern and looked down the street that lead to the docks and saw a group of three unsavory looking people, and they seemed to be looking for something. "Or someone." Ja thought. He walked back into the tavern and sat down on the opposite side of the room from the Khajiit the people were looking for, and got ready a welcoming gift.

Khal watched the man drop a bottle of ale next to him, as he rocked back and forth in his chair. He quickly grabed the ale, and drunk from it hoping it would calm him. Kahl drunk about half the bottle before he saw three crew man had ran through the tavern door.

Kahl let out a shreak and unsheathed his dagger. He clutched it close to him as one the crew mates walked closer to him. The other two stayed a few feet behind. Kahl threw his dagger, his aim true as it had went through the mans neck. Kahl started to cry leaping of the chair and into a corner, feeling helpless.

"No! Please, dont kill me. I don't wanna go to the captian! He'll beat me. I don't wanna be beaten! HELP!"

"Ah, no, captain. I'm afraid that I didn't keep you company. But I have prepared breakfast for you, if-" Just than Serge arrived. He had himself a cup of tea before speaking to the captain. Sharee was coming to her senses so Noelle handed her a cup of the tea, while pouring herself one as well. It was decent, if sour. Sharee than mentioned the reason they where here; they were going to hit a skooma vessel. Moon sugar was a useful alchemy ingredient and narcotic. There aren't many businesses that would deal with the stuff, but those who do would buy it for a good price. However, selling within Elsweyr would be ill advised; while the Dominion is trying to crack down on sales, Elsweyr produces Moon Sugar mostly freely. Trying to sell them their own product would be... Ill advised. However, outside of the lands were it originates from, Moon Sugar is an exotic treat and has a price to match. High Rock was the first place that Noelle thought they should start selling the moon sugar at, as many of their chef use moon sugar for their more risque delicacy, or the orcs who have more recreational use for it.

"Do you have a plan for how we're going to take on that ship? Recently the men have been stripping the parts off the boat. I'm not sure if it's ready for a sea battle. Not only that, but the Infirmary is in need of more supplies than what we have now. While I'm not afraid to pay out of my own pocket, even I don't have enough to stock the infirmary as well as I'd like it to be." What Noelle was trying to tell Sharee was that they needed to use that Skooma money to buy more Infirmary supplies. But Sharee should still be under the effects of Noelle's spell, so she pressed on. "As well as upgrading the ship, since it's practically bare bones right now. While I understand the need to give it some armor and weapons, we're a pirate ship, but a war vessel; we'll be out at sea for a long time, and starvation and infections aren't opponents we can simply stab with our swords. Have you considered adding the garden project to the ship? That would ensure that we're well supplied with regents I need for the Infirmary, and even food for the kitchen."

Sharee was quite liking the tea. It was soothing to drink, almost to the point that it made her forget about her headache. She started on her breakfast as well, and for a moment, tried thinking of a way to get Noelle to do this for her every morning. That would probably end up being too inconvenient, though, since she had duties in the infirmary. She could probably just get Allaina to do it, perhaps move her back into the captain's cabin again.

Even if it did sound like complaining, Noelle brought up valid points that Sharee really couldn't ignore. It took a lot more than weapons and armor to run a successful pirate vessel, and at this point, they weren't exactly doing well on the armor. "Honestly, I don't really like that we had to take off all those plates, but those Imperial markings would get us killed in Dominion waters just as fast as anything. We aren't doing well financially right now, so I'm hoping to sell some of the raw materials we took off for some replacements. Find the right buyer and they won't care about the markings. Actually, if there are any other pirate vessels docked, we might be able to sell it to them. Imperial markings would make it a bit easier to operate in Imperial waters. At any rate, I have no particular interest in letting my crew die, so we'll be getting supplies for the infirmary as soon as we can. It might not be a lot of supplies, but it will be something. As for the garden thing, I think I said before what you have to do. If you can deal with watering the plants, you can do it. We have to carry enough water for the crew, and we don't have the ability to carry a lot of extra water around for plants. However, as an alchemist, I know there are ways to separate salt from seawater. It's not efficient enough to get drinking water for a whole ship, but you might be able to use that process to water some plants. I'm not going to do it, but as long as you are willing to worry about desalinating the seawater, you can have your garden. " Sharee answered. As she was talking, she couldn't help but to look over Noelle a bit suggestively. For some inexplicable reason, Noelle seemed oddly appealing. Sharee couldn't help but to feel that something was amiss. It wasn't normal for her, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. "You know, you're looking pretty good right now." She commented.