The crew of the Ajdaha was lined up on the deck of the warship. The dragonborn relieved them of all their weapons, then turned to salute an old officer who had been observing the brief fight from where he stood on the quarterdeck. The officer nodded in response and walked down onto the main deck; Vivi glared at him, studying him intently. He was wearing a black wool coat with a black tailored shirt underneath, and he looked much cleaner than any Eskiholti sailor Vivi had ever seen—his hair was combed and seemed to be recently washed, his greying beard was neatly trimmed, and his clothes were spotless. His most distinctive feature, however, was much less neat: a large scar that stretched across the side of his face—it vaguely reminded Vivi of an acid burn.

"My name is Captain Einar Pétursson of the Eskiholti warship Morgunstjarna," the man barked, turning to address the prisoners. "I have a few questions to ask you; your cooperation will be appreciated."

"What have you done with the Onyx?" Aenwyn asked coldly, clearly having no intention of cooperating.

The captain made a quick gesture, then drew an expensive-looking revolver from inside his coat; Vivi recognized it as the kind of pistol usually carried by rich elves back in Uyalon, but any further musings on this were interrupted as one of the Eskiholti—a hulking orc who would have been far more intimidating if he wasn't quite neatly dressed—responded to his captain's gesture, lashing Aenwyn's back with a cruel-looking whip. She didn't flinch.

"You may speak when spoken to," the captain snapped. "To begin with, you'll tell me who hired you to attack one of our privateers."

"I will?" Aenwyn snorted. "Over my dead body." Vivi knew she wasn't joking—not even a seasoned captain like her would dare betray the thieves' guild.

"That can be arranged," the captain growled, pointing his gun at Aenwyn. "Or perhaps we can set the bosun loose on you again. How'll it be?"

Aenwyn remained stoic, and the two stared at each other for an almost uncomfortably long time before the captain finally gave up and looked away with a grunt of frustration.

"I see how it is," he muttered, turning his back on the prisoners and staring out into the fog, which had only now started to lift. He repeated his gesture, and Aenwyn received several more lashes. Vivi wanted to scream, to run up and snatch the whip from the bosun's hands, and it seemed the rest of her crewmates wanted to do the same—but Aenwyn silenced them all with a look.

"Perhaps we've misunderstood each other," the captain offered after a few moments of silence. "Should I take your silence to say that you weren't hired to kill one of ours?" Receiving no response, the captain's eyes narrowed, and his tone hardened. "I would strongly encourage you to talk, if that's the case. I would hate to detain you unnecessarily." He turned back to face Aenwyn, but was interrupted for just a moment as one of his crew emerged from below decks and whispered something in his ear. Vivi couldn't help but note that he seemed rather stressed.

"You asked about the... Onyx, was it?" he finally continued, waving the messenger away with an annoyed expression. "We did meet another of your pirate guild's ships on our way here. They weren't very forthcoming with answers either, and we were... unfortunately forced to sink them. Of course, we were in a bit of a hurry at the time, so we didn't stop to make a note of its name—or to take prisoners."

A chill went down Vivi's spine at the captain's tone, but Aenwyn looked like she hadn't even heard him—she continued staring out into the distance with cold, empty eyes, as if the news of her friend's death bothered her as little as the blood trickling down her back. The captain glared at her, clearly expecting more of a response, but before he could say anything, a commotion broke out on deck. Turning to look for its source, Vivi spotted several new figures arriving on deck: the centaur and the wizard, who were in lively conversation with a few of the warship's other officers, as well as the Crow. Vivi glared at him and noted with satisfaction that, although he had received medical attention, he seemed to be in quite some pain.

"Ah, Captain Nijem. Why am I not surprised to find you in the middle of this mess?" the captain said, shaking the centaur's hand. "I'm glad we could render assistance in time."

The centaur only bowed his head in response, which suited the captain just fine. He instead turned his attention to the assassin, who was busy handing over his weapons to the dragonborn. He had already surrendered his bow and his sword, and was currently pulling various knives and daggers from increasingly improbable locations; fourteen from his belt, another ten from the inside of his jacket—throwing knives, by the looks of them—and then two big daggers from sheaths mounted on his lower thighs.

"Any more?" the dragonborn asked dryly, patting the elf down. He pulled out two more hidden in his sleeves, and two hidden in each of his boots. In other circumstances, Vivi would have found the endeavor rather hilarious.

The captain, however, was less amused. "So, this is the famous Crow," he said silkily. "I wasn't aware we'd be hosting celebrities this morning." He grabbed onto the elf and roughly shoved him towards the other prisoners. "Get in line, scum."

The elf stared out into the distance in grim silence as the captain pointed his gun at him. "Now, how about you?" he said, giving the assassin a searching look. "Anything to divulge about your current occupation?"

"I have nothing to say to you, sir," the Crow growled between his teeth.

"You'd better be wrong about that," the captain snarled. "The only reason you're still alive is that you might be useful to me; otherwise, I could just throw you to the gunnery crew. They're very aware of just how many Eskiholti you've killed..."

"I'm sure," the Crow interrupted. "I look forward to making it a few more."

The captain glared at the elf until Vivi thought his eyes would pop right out of their sockets. Vivi wondered to herself why he didn't give him a few lashes of the whip, too—maybe he thought a famous assassin would be a more valuable prisoner than a thieves' guild captain. Whatever his reasons for restraint, he finally stepped away and started pacing the deck, growing more frustrated by the second, stopping briefly to mutter orders to one of his officers.

"Anyone else?" he then asked, raising his voice to a roar. He swept his gun back and forth over the row of prisoners, finally landing on Owen. "You. Do you have anything to add?"

"Me?" Owen said innocently. "I am but a poor kitchen boy. I'd only be qualified to tell you Terry's special gravy recipe—but alas, I'm oath-bound to keep that secret with my life."

The bosun almost preempted the captain's gesture, giving Owen a nasty lash for his trouble. He stumbled forward against the captain, who grabbed him roughly by the collar and shoved the gun into his chest.

"Wait!" Vivi shouted instinctively, her mind flashing back to the alley in Sheo Caelora—she couldn't let Owen put either of them in front of a bullet again. "What will you do if I tell you what you want to know? Will you spare our lives?"

The captain smiled, clearly pleased with getting something—anything out of them. "I certainly won't if you don't tell me."

Vivi held the captain's gaze for a moment, searching his face. "Fair enough," she said slowly. "We were hired by Lord Zeren of Didard." She cast a quick glance towards Owen, who was visibly struggling to keep a straight face at the thought of Zeren being a Lord of anything—Vivi hadn't exactly had much time to think, so she'd grabbed the first name that came to mind... and it didn't seem like she had to worry about getting Zeren into trouble anymore.

The captain sighed and holstered his gun, exchanging a few hushed words with his officers. Behind them, the first warship—the Rettlaeti if she remembered Aenwyn correctly—was approaching, its crew making ready to come alongside.

"Fortunately for you," the captain finally said, "I don't have any more time for you... so that will have to do." He turned away and started walking back up towards the quarterdeck. "Throw 'em in the brig, Mr. Krazas."

The dragonborn saluted and grabbed onto Vivi and Owen, gesturing to some of his crew to take some of the others, and led them down into the hold of the warship.