Fendros didn't answer immediately. Instead, he picked up Rhazii and carefully handed him to Ahnasha. "I'll clean his loincloth," Fendros said, finding a bucket to fill up with seawater. He thought of something while he had his back to Ahnasha, tossing the bucket out of a side hatch with a rope attached. "Perhaps, we could share recounts of it, in our own words." There was a faint splash and Fendros began to pull the rope back in, "It will be painful, but maybe it will help to put it in perspective. I still remember like it was yesterday." Fendros had no idea if it was going to do anything except make them weep, but something told him that confronting the memories would help in some capacity. It was going to hurt to deal with them in any fashion. Fendros pulled the bucket aboard and added one more thing before Ahnasha could respond, "Putting us through each others' pain might not be the way, actually. Whether we should tell it to each other, or someone else, I'm not sure."

"They sound mean, whoever they were," Sabine thought out loud, "I wonder if there were there any other groups who lived in Black Marsh. I've heard of Nagas and Lilmoth...Lilmothet, but that's all. And Kothringi, now." Sabine always had trouble remembering the word Lilmothiit. She doubted that it would be the last time she got it wrong. "In Cyrodiil, there are all kinds of people. I bet that every kind of race lives in the Imperial City. If it's so big, it can't have just Imperials in it."