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.