The laughter went on for a little bit, whether the Dunmer girl laughed, or not, seemed not to matter. The joke had become real among the friends, and Serge had retrieved his flask from inside his coat pocket. He took a break to drink while Sarel went into a cackling fit. Serge retreated from the flask, having taken a healthy drink, and began laughing again, as if he’d never stopped. He threw the flask to Sarel, who caught it as if he hadn’t been smoking and drinking all day. And he drank. The eldest Dunmer put the flask around his belt as he and Serge’s laughter began to subside. He emptied his pipe, retrieved the grinding case, and saw that there was no more Balmora left, none at all. He sighed, put the case and pipe away in the pocket in his boot, and retrieved the flask from his red sash belt. He drank and spun in place and turned toward the harbor. He finished his gulp, closed it, and tossed it over his shoulder. Serge caught it, dropped to his bum on the grass, and laid beside the Dunmer girl. He realized that she hadn’t said anything at all, she hadn’t done anything at all. He drank from the flask, his vision turning toward the darkening space above, Secundas and Masser had their outlines pressed against the canvas of the sky. Then he looked at his finger, the gold ring on the finger. When he was done with the gulp he closed the flask and smiled at the ring. 

“You know, Sarel, you are a man—sorry—an elf of great class dignity and grace.”

Sarel had noticed Sharee walking along the harbor, she seemed to be on the prowl. She was accompanied by two Khajiits, likely as guides, along with Noelle and Kayal. She was well defended, which pleased the Dunmer swordsman greatly, he wished no harm upon her, not yet at least. She was staking out one ship, he could tell by the directions she walked in, where she glanced most often, and the fact that the ship she converged on was a shipping vessel, perfect for moving product. There was a lot of it, and, if every container had skooma in it, they would have quite the haul on their hands, as well as a bit of a inventory problem. Where in Oblivion would they keep all of this? Serge began speaking about Sarel’s class, and grace. Sarel lifted his hand to his brow, set his fingers along the ridged bridge of his nose, and cast his sobering spell. He was brought back down faster than jetty in a sea fight. He shook his head as he shook off the nausea. 

“Not to mention your wisdom and generosity,” Serge began again as he sat up. “I can’t belive, by the divine, you found my sigil ring! I owe you my life!” He was getting belligerent, but loving nonetheless. He crossed the space between them like a babe to its mother. Sarel set his fingers quickly on Serge’s brow, and cast his spell. Serge immediately began vomiting. It was… ridiculous. Thankfully, Sarel was out of the way, so it only went to the grass and down the hill. Once he was done he wiped his mouth. He looked fine afterwards, actually, Sarel noticed. “That was something altogether impressive, I certainly must admit. That was like insanity. Where’d you learn a trick like that?”

“My master. I was a rowdy teen.” Sarel said without any humor. The spell always did that, left him a little unamused. He cast the inventory spell and pulled out a telescope. He extended it and focused it. He handed it to Serge, pointed their Argonian leader out. “Look, it’s Sharee. She’s looking at that ship.”

“Which?” Serge asked, stepping up to the edge with Sarel. The two had left the Dunmer girl behind, God’s knew if she was still there. 

“That one right there, with the red moon flag.” Sarel responded impatiently. 

“Ah, how do you know that? Eh, look, it’s that girl, Noelle.” Serge made humping motions like a sex crazed teenager. 

“Stop that, you’re going to draw attention. Listen, they’re already packing up it’s catalog. They’ll be out on the water by the crack of dawn, if they can rouse their damn crew from their whore’s beds.” The elf suddenly felt a little breathless. He continued, “We’re going to need to find out their route, armor out ship, immediately, and head out before them. It’s the only way this would work. Unless Sharee has something up her sleave.”

Serge stared at Sarel for a long time, a little bewildered. “You talk a great deal when you’re not high.”

“I’m focused, let’s go.” Sarel set off down the bluff to the dirt road again, Serge in tow. 

---

Sarel lead the duo through a side road, then to another major avenue. The familiar red brick led them to a Thalmor embassy, where the documents concerning that vessel would be kept. They might not contain any information about their route, but it might give them leads. 

As the two walked back to the harbor, at a quickening pace, Sarel thought about what else they might do to learn the route, along with when the crew would leave, since there was no way in absolutely proving anything Sarel said earlier, it was mostly a hunch. Perhaps they could infiltrate the ship. They’d need invisibility potions, which Sharee could provide instantly, he figured. That was very risky however. They could interrogate a crew member, perhaps the boatswain, stick a dagger to his gut in an alleyway. Serge could do that easily, perhaps with Kayal. In no time they were well behind Sharee and the group, leaning against a stable where a camel was hitched. Sharee was delivering a message to the rest of the group, everyone listened intently. She was interested in another ship, one at the other end of the harbor. Sarel’s sublime eyesight was responsible for his ability to gain all of this information. Sarel wanted to get to work, he looked over to their ship. There were boxes of materials left on the dock near the ship, a few crew members watched over it. There was still a surprising amount of activity on the boat. Lanterns had been lit, and there was at least one card game going on. Sarel looked over to his friend. “Go talk to Sharee, she might need you. I’m going to go back to the ship to get it outfitted.”

“Sound’s fine. Are you drinking tonight?” Serge asked suddenly. 

“No, I think not.” Sarel responded. He pointed at the other ship Sharee was interested in. “See that ship? I want you to tail one of their crew members, find who the boatswain is. We need access to their maps and records somehow.” Sarel stroked his beard, “Don’t be seen, don’t draw attention.” And Sarel lifted himself from the stable and walked across the harbor. He made sure to attract Sharee’s attention, he wanted her to know that he was going to be indisposed. 

Serge crossed the expanse, pass the closing market stands, he smiled at his boss and crew. “What a beautiful crew we have here.” Serge said as he approached, not drawing too much attention. He stood nearest Kayal, wherever he stood, and leaned on him. “Sarel says you’ve found ships, that true?”