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Breathe in, count slowly to three.  Breathe out, count back down to zero.  Rinse and repeat, over and over again as the seconds turn to minutes turn to hours turn to- you get the picture.  It was an important exercise for most novice mages, for depending on who your teacher happened to be controlling your breathing was often one of the first lessons you were given when initially starting to train with magic.  That, and an excessive amount of memorizing of excruciatingly specific arcane pronunciations.  Of course, all that was completely irrelevant at the moment.  Sarathai, lying in the rank darkness belowdeck with an arm draped dramatically across his face, was not in fact practicing his meager magical talent.  At the moment, he was trying not to throw up.  Again.

His first time aboard a ship and he had been thoroughly convinced it would be his last, as he knew with preternatural clarity that only one on death's door could ever feel this terribly unwell for this extended a period of time.  So caught up in trying to keep down the horrific food he had most recently been provided with and not making another mess he would end up having to clean up, he barely noticed when they finally reached their ultimate destination.  Not until someone was shouting that it was time to move.  With a groan, he had lurched unsteadily to his feet and taken the few wobbly steps out into the sunlight  Squinting against the painfully bright sun after all the days in cramped perpetual gloom, he beheld Haev for the first time in his life.  As he shuffled off the ship, the chains that bound his legs clinked and he couldn't help but reflect on what a unfortunate and dismal twist his life had taken.  At the very least he still had both of his kneecaps and the torments of the high seas had been unable to claim his life in the end.  Smooth sailing from here on out, right?

As he and the rest of the 'recruits' were herded through the city, he couldn't help but greedily revel in the sensation of breathing fresh air for the first time in forever.  He had become so acclimated to the perpetual stink of bilgewater and unwashed bodies that he had almost forgotten what clean air smelled like.  Though initially he had been scanning his surroundings with a great deal more enthusiasm than might be expected from someone in his situation, he quickly grew disillusioned as he recognized just how mundane this city really was.  Stories, legends and history books were all well and good, but in reality it turned out that at the end of the day Haev was just a city and the people dwelling here were just ordinary people.  Just like everywhere else after all.

Eventually they were escorted from the gates of the resoundingly average city to the resoundingly below average living conditions it seemed like he would end up having to suffer through, out here in the Order's camp.  Alas, it seemed dismal accommodations were just something he would have to grow accustomed to.  At the very least he had dry land beneath his boots once again.  No more fucking boats. 

When the lieutenant spoke to the gathered group that had been on the boat with Sarathai, he had initially opened his mouth to speak once the lieutenant posed his initial question, but someone else had beaten him to answering.  And what an answer it was!  That guy, the one with the mask for a face- he gave the most outlandish little speech, chanted a bunch and bled some before ambling off to sit in his own little corner.  Some small part of Sarathai was trying to convince the rest of him that he should feel intimidated, or even threatened by the display.  Yet, all he really found himself feeling was bemused.  It had been a long voyage and he really need a nap on a bed that wasn't constantly rocking back and forth beneath him.  The tiefling's speech soon after sealed the deal- things were almost certainly going to get out of hand at some point soon.  He vaguely thought he recognized that tiefling.  Was he another the one that Sarathai had silently regarded as his puke-buddy back on the ship, despite never having personally interacted with one another during the voyage?  If so, it was good to see the fellow so lively already- not to mention considerably less morose than the rest of this crew.  The moment passed quickly enough, as things came back around with some particularly dour words courtesy of a big 'ole armored Orisiri.

Realizing that he had kinda just left his mouth hanging partially open from the time when he had once intended to speak, he let it snap shut.  Instead of giving any verbal confirmation, he simply nodded and gave the most formal-seeming salute he could muster.

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