Uban stood on point, figuring it was best to leave the hostage situation to Berlin. He was good at that sort of thing--even aside from his magic, he had two years experience taming a little feral shifter, so he could handle some angry villagers. Rohaan was a mess. He'd never seen him like that and despite the boy's age, it rocked his view of him a little to see him melt down like that. That kid had been through a lot and not once, not ONCE had he seen him lose it like he was now. Uban had heard bits and pieces of Rohaan's sad childhood story, but even Berlin admitted to him once that he didn't know the full story. They all knew his home had been raided, he was taken on a ship and somehow escaped, and they all remembered the state they found him in. Thin, battered, filthy, cold, and fierce. Uban swung his dagger and gently paced, giving the boy and Hana space but also standing guard lest something else happen. He doubted it would, but this whole place set him on edge. It set everyone on edge. 

Rohaan allowed himself to be moved, to be held. He gave no resistance whatsoever and instead kept one hand curled around a fold of her shirt and refused to let go. Oddly enough though, he found her presence somewhat comforting and eventually his hysterical sobs became little staggered gasps of breath. She was not Berlin, and lacked both the earned trust and the innate magic he had, but he had not been held like that since he was home. He had so many emotions, none of which he could really put his finger on in his current state. He felt painfully guilty for hurting Berlin, a little worried that he'd even reacted that way in the first place, angry, scared--no, terrified. He was remembering things with clarity that he had not thought back on in any great detail since it'd happened, nor had he ever had the time to properly process what had happened to him. Once he'd escaped, life was all about survival and there was no room for anything else. Until now. It all came to the surface and spilled out like a boiled-over pot.

"They killed everybody," he told her between hitching breaths, though whether or not he was talking about the fishing town or his home was unclear. Probably both. "They got ships and they put kids on 'em...and..." He spoke very quickly in Vokurian, not caring whether or not she could understand him. Then, back to Carisian, "They'd take one per night. You'd never see 'em again. Why would they do that? Why would they do that?" Another set of stuttering breaths, then, "And I hurt Berlin. I didn't mean to I j-j-just..." He put his face into her shoulder. "Don't let 'em take me."

--

If looks could kill, Berlin's icy stare could have slain even Wheel. The big man backhanded Wheel in the chest hard. "Shut your mouth, you aren't helping! I ain't got the energy for your shit today!" He growled between clenched teeth. And then, as he turned his attention back to the villagers, he was all cool, calm smiles again. They came down and plainly stated they wanted them to leave--fair enough. But they didn't need to be so prickly about it--they were obviously no threa--well...he looked at Wheel and reassessed his thoughts. Perhaps it was warranted. 

"Easy mates, we'll leave you to your mourning. We didn't come here for trouble. It would please you to know, I think, that we're going to find that ship. I assume they...took people. I can see to it that they find themselves a way home, if its within my power. But one of mine has had a personal brush with these...Barizians. We're going after that ship, and this time it's personal. Rest assured that your dead will be avenged." His tone was dark, angry, and the storm that lurked just underneath the surface showed itself a little, but it was a distant anger. Removed. His rage was not pointed towards them, but the slavers. "Can you tell me, was it just the one? A galley? Or were there others?"