Sarel watched the flogging with a manifold discord. The rending of flesh and spirit, along with the desperate cries and sputtering, made the Dunmer feel uncomfortable with the whole thing. This girl was not a sailor, she was not a pirate like the rest, so was this appropriate? Also, Sarel saw Sharee as a fair leader, despite her suicidal sense of leading. She would not have ordered this sort of punishment without a reasonable purpose. 

Over the next few days Sarel was busy supervising repairs and upgrades to the ship. He reinforced the hull along with some of the beams which were slightly damaged. On the first night Sarel took it upon himself to train some of the men on the ship proper swordsmanship. Of course, without years of training and experience it was mostly superficial. Sarel hoped that those small tips might help them hurt their opponent more often than they hurt themselves, but he could only hope. His team-members also showed up, halfway through a particularly rowdy dice game, and handed him a journal of notes pertaining to every scoundrel and deviant they could find. That night, in bed, Sarel read through what they’d found. Serge’s bed was empty. 

The Breton had taken his Khajiit team-member along with him to scout out the plantations. They returned the next morning with information of their own. The officers presented Sharee with the dossier as that day began, leaving them with the rest of the afternoon to train, rest, and plan. Sarel and Serge arrived in the captain’s quarters together. The Dunmer wore his classic, amber-colored, chitin armor along with all three ancient swords attached to the right side of his waist; his face was covered by his rarely worn chitin helmet. The Breton wore his full corundum clad armor. This longsword was at his waist as well. Neither of them brought assistance. They’d discussed it the night before and both had decided that their team-members were more liabilities than anything else in a raid situation. Sarel brought some health and magicka potions while Serge was stocked up with the stamina variety. Before anyone said anything Sarel tapped Noelle on the shoulder, hoping she’d healed. 

“I’d like to speak with you about that garden you wanted. We can meet up after the mission.” The Dunmer said quietly. He left her with that on her mind and crossed the room with his friend. 

Sarel and Serge took the corner with a table, the former sat in the sturdy wooden chair and the latter leaned against the wall. “Captain, where is this bandit lair? Are we going on foot, or have you arranged another transport?” Sarel asked.