Pieter stayed silent as Berlin spoke, nodding at the appropriate times. He'd had a general idea of what his captain had been up to before he'd shown up in disguise in the dingy dock tavern, but he'd never pressed the matter before. Whenever he'd ask about that time, Berlin had given vague answers and changed the subject. 

Slapping him on the shoulder, Pieter said, "Awh, hell Burl. Not like you're the first sea dog who tried to settle down b'fore his time. Hell, you stick around on this earth long enough, I imagine you'll try and settle down a few more times b'fore Sweet Tevira finishes with you." A sadness came over Pieter without his awareness, it darkly played over his face, turning down the corners of his mouth before he continued, "I've got kids all over. Sometimes, when I'm in a port that I'd been in before, I try and look for the lads and lasses who would be old enough to be from then. See myself or their mothers in them. I barely remember the mothers, and I've got no clue how I looked when I had piss and vinegar inside me. So I just look at them all like I would my own. And all I see are my kids ending up as broken backed stevedores and harlots." 
Gentler than he had been, he placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder, "Master Havaiann. I've seen what kind of future awaits our children. Nothing but toil for a crust of bread. Rohaan. He's free. You're showing him how to live outside of the lords and ladies and mages." 
He puffed once, twice at his pipe. He gingerly removed his hand, scratching at his chin as he spoke in a hoarse whisper, "Decency is whatever the courts decide it is. We're free. Free to choose what kind of men we are."