"Myrin?" Vivi asked with a sigh of relief as she recognized their rescuer—a scruffy young elf wearing an old sailor's cap. "I... what are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same," Myrin replied, stepping over the unconscious tincap. "What have you done now? This fellow won't be too happy when he wakes up."

Owen started giving a long-winded and not entirely accurate account of the situation, but Vivi soon cut him short. "We think we found a message from the Thieves' Guild," she explained, snatching the scroll away from him. "Maybe it's for Aenwyn?"

Myrin took the scroll and investigated it closely, his brow furrowing. "Aenwyn has not had any dealings with the guild for over a year now, but..." He looked up, peeking out into the street. "We can talk later. Let's get back to the ship."

Neither Vivi nor Owen had anything against that plan, so they quickly followed after Myrin as he made his way down the alley—they stuck to the back roads, occasionally having to duck for cover when they spotted a tincap on patrol. Eventually, though, they reached the market, and as they slipped into the crowd Vivi finally began to relax.

"I'd like to know what the hell you were thinking," she said, turning to Owen with a smirk, "but I suppose there's no point in asking."

Owen smiled. "Please, Vivi. I've gotten by all my life without resorting to such petty measures as thinking, and I don't intend to start now."

"Speaking of what you were thinking... where have you been, Nerikas?" Myrin asked, using the half-elf's elven name like most of their crewmates did. "No one has seen either of you for over a week."

"You see... it's like this," Owen said, putting his arm over Myrin's shoulder—much to the elf's dismay—and gesturing out vaguely into the distance. "What's important isn't knowing where you've been, but where you're going."

"That doesn't answer my question," Myrin grunted, struggling to free himself from the unwelcome embrace. "Where have you been going, then?"

Vivi chuckled in amusement at the elf's predicament. "We've been sneaking around between the shops and the farmyards to find parts for my weapon," she explained, gesturing to the pouch she always carried on her belt which was nearly overflowing with a messy assortment of tools, broken equipment, and other various hardware—she had always liked tinkering with whatever knick-knacks she could get her hands on, but her latest contraption was a bit more ambitious.

"Of course... your legendary weapon," Myrin scoffed, finally breaking loose from Owen's grip. "I thought you decided to give up on that last time you got in trouble back in Uinas."

"Do I look like someone who gives up?" Vivi asked defiantly—Myrin didn't reply, as he knew very well she wasn't one to give up on things. They walked on in silence for about five seconds, before Owen couldn't take it anymore and started ranting about something completely unrelated to Myrin in elvish, which lasted until they had reached the little town's harbor.