Pietrus said, "I look at the metal you've forged, Percius, and I'm frightened. It seems to me that we are inviting disaster and bloodshed by crafting ourselves an arsenal. It's foolish that you do this. It's foolish to have so many swords on a voyage which has a leader who promised us no more conflict and no more battles. What will Varrus do when he sees all this? Find yourself another hobby, I beg, and give a me a peace of mind."

Quintus did not agree with him. He grimly said "I know the state of Varrus, and so do you, Pietrus. For you and your judgement I have respect, but I'm more uncomfortable on this ship now than I ever was. I spend my days yearning for any shore, really. I want to get to Seyda Neen already and be free of this fugitive leadership. Varrus was a more formidable man, but he has changed. He worships the Daedra almost openly on this ship, I tell you, we are on a Daedric ship! We need that arsenal, Pietrus, and I am happy that Percius by his lonesome will provide it for us."

Pietrus made clear his disapproval, and he was gloomy for the afternoon all along unto the night, not speaking to Quintus, and he bit his lips indignantly whenever he passed Percius' little workshop. Percius worked there in the meantime, and there he slept since of late no one called for him to work the ship; of late none had their dull spirits raised. Percius slept there again one night as the ship pulled against the coast of Seyda Neen at the dawn of the 1st of Morning Star, and he dreamt and saw Bittercup, the artifact of Clavicus Vile, Daedric Prince of Bargains, and saw himself drink from it. A voice of wisdom then boomed in his ears, and said, "You are a child, Percius, despite your years. Heed now to my warning. It is no bargain, nor trickery what I tell you; there is someone else for that," and the voice told Percius what to do. Meanwhile, Varrus too was awake, and he was beside the shrine of Clavicus Vile that was lit by a tiny flame in the otherwise lightless cabin. He was sitting and looking at some bowls which were all empty, and he was staring at them hard, like he did every other night, waiting for something there to materialise. He thought that he had entered a bargain with the Daedric Prince, and for his end of the bargain, the Prince would give him enough gold to fill those cups only, for that was all he had wanted. He had tired of being a captain and a leader, a father to men whom he knew were not the most virtuous (he knew because so too was himself). After this arduous sailing under his leadership, he wanted a break; he thought he was not built for it, and now all he dreaded was the disappointment of the crew when they surmised his self-imposed separation. So he prayed to Clavicus Vile, and his fatigue had him, for the first time, be reduced to tears.

So Percius saw all that pertained to Varrus, and he saw Clavicus Vile's face drenched in his Masque, and he was afraid. He woke up in the early hours before daylight broke, and he spent his hours until morning fearfully and forcibly wrapped up in his woollen blanket, not sleeping, but refusing to wake by closing shut his eyes. He was indecisive what to do after sunrise.

Then the morning came. Men shouted to set sails and be at their posts while doors banged open and the Colovian sailors walked from their rooms. The shores of Seyda Neen were barely in sight, and they were a cause of merriment among the crew. They had brightened faces, even Varrus who adeptly shielded his disappointment from last night when Clavicus Vile had ignored his plea.