Nieven appeared to have heard of more comrades who Valen could only assume she had thought dead. A part of him wondered if he should follow, there were few enough of his kind that didn't try to kill him after all. He decided against it, as they needed to go check out the boat. If it was gonna be a problem, it was better to not be caught unwares. And so it was that he crept along the shore towards the boat shortly after arriving.

Valen put a hand above his eyes for shade and glared at the ship that lay anchored rather far up the shallow waters. It was an ashlander craft, there was no mistaking it. Which he argued, meant problems. He knew not what his new possible allies and comrades did here, but by the looks of it they weren't on a picknick. He levied his spear and shield back onto his back as he moved alongside his new found comrade in arms. But he kept his distance, not trusting him enough to readily be in weapons reach. He crouched low as he made his way towards the boat., Trying his best to figure out what they were dealing with. It was a sizable vessel and he wondered quietly if it had brought a full crew with it. That would pose a problem if it came down to a fight. He wasn't sure he had enough arrows to put them all down.

As luck would have it, there would be no armed guards coming at them. So , Hargjorn in his endless wisdom began to wade out into the water. Valen, having just come from the sea decided this was divine punishment and sighed. In silence, he moved with Hagjorn and heaved himself up the aft hatch. He hung back, something prickling in the back of his mind. Where was all the crew?

 His eyes snapped up at the sound Hagjorns cry for help and his finger deftly pulled a arrow out of the quiver and onto the bowstring in one smooth movement.A hooded figure was besetting his newfound ally to what purpse Valen did not know. What he did know was that he was not going back on any slave ship, and he would not die here due to folly on his or any others part. With the precision, discipline and for once sober mind of a veteran he knocked the arrow and pulled back. His back straight, his legs finding his balance against the gently rocking of theboat, he let lose his arrow. Aming for the center of the attackers mass he argued that is such a tight space the attacker could not move to avoid. Especially since he was attempting to kill Hargjorn.
 
'Twang' went the snap of the string as one sharp and shiny bodkin arrow sailed towards its target.