Jack's ship somehow looked even smaller in the daylight.
He had a crew of only five people and the boat was large enough to fit all of them comfortably and their cargo – it wasn't as if they were all cramped in there. But it was surprising how it weathered the harshness of the Sea of Ghosts for all this time. Jack said that he had it for over ten years. He must have been quite the navigator.
Or maybe the ship was sturdier than it looked.
After all, the first day, when the evening came and they were just passing Hjaalmarch swamps in the distance, most of the sailors gathered around below decks to spin wild tales about their adventures at sea instead of manning the ship. They talked about all manner of encounters – from vicious storms, through pirate battles, to sea monsters and Nereids. According to their tales, they barely ever had an uneventful journey at all – the Sea of Ghosts was treacherous further from the shore on any day and they traversed almost the entirety of it regularly. They said that they were prepared to whether anything though, which was a bit comforting.
It wasn't that different from the road after all. Bishop and Aeyrin barely ever made a journey without getting intercepted by bandits, monsters or dragons. And those were the better options. They were convinced that their sea voyage would turn out even more peaceful than the journey would have been otherwise.
Besides, the sailors were surely exaggerating at least a little. Especially when Jack joined in the recountings. The tales about the monster as tall as the White Gold Tower or a group of vicious whales with a taste for human flesh that had followed them across the sea did sound a bit implausible. Even if Jack claimed to be cursed.
So far though, the voyage had been nothing but enjoyable.
They made good time – they were already nearing Dawnstar when night fell and they would be far enough from the town itself to get a good night's sleep as they sailed past it. Bishop and Aeyrin already knew that – their first escape from the nightmarish struggles had also been on a boat after all and it was decidedly closer to the shore to boot. The ferrymen with their small vessels never sailed this far from the coast. So since they knew that the dreams didn't affect them on the small ferry, it was easy to surmise that they would be safe here on Jack's ship as well.
With luck and good winds, which Jack seemed to be convinced would hold, they would be passing Winterhold by noon the next day and they would surely be able to dock by the Windhelm lighthouse some time before the evening. This was going to be their only night spent on the ship.
And they decided to make good use of it. Hopefully Karliah would let them rest afterwards, before they had to undergo whatever mission she had concocted.
Especially since the sailors were definitely fun company with their wild tales, constant merriment and endless supplies of rum.
"Satakal's word, I swear to ye, hundreds of 'em. All of those fat horkers cramped in one teeny island, for some daft reason," Jack smacked his hands on his tights as he laughed heartily. He was just in the middle of telling his new passengers about some small island by the shores of Solstheim, allegedly teeming with horkers. Though it was probably not 'hundreds' of them, as he colorfully put it.
It must have been pretty late already, but they all still stayed below decks, aside from Jack's first mate who had been making sure that they stay the course up on the deck. Surprisingly enough, the Sea of Ghosts had been very calm that night, but Jack assured them that that could change any second. There was no reason not to enjoy the quiet for now though. They were all drinking rum, though not enough to dull their senses if a storm came, eating plenty of horker meat and exchanging tales of adventures.
"Alright, alright, that's enough sea stories," Bishop chuckled at Jack. His over-the-top tales had been certainly entertaining, but it was clear that he was steadily running out of ideas on what adventures to embellish. There was probably some truth to his tales but there was no way they happened exactly how he told them. "You've obviously run out of the good ones since you find horkers interesting."
"Of course he finds them interesting, he even mistakes them for Nereids when he's drunk enough," one of the sailors chuckled at that and he was rewarded with a round of laughter from the others.
"That's not even a little surprising," Bishop smirked. "But I still don't wanna talk about horkers anymore. Or Nereids. You gotta get some new stories," he gave the sailors a challenging look. "How about the weirdest shit that happened to you on the shore for a change?" Those were definitely going to be tales filled with drunken anecdotes and Jack's prattle of curses and rum out of Oblivion. It would definitely entertain now that all the exciting sea adventures had been covered. And he was having fun with the sailors – it was such a breath of fresh… well… a breath of rum-soaked, filthy air. It was definitely a relief to be in such company after all that shit with nobles and paladins.
The sailors started to grin in excitement, already pondering on the tales they would tell. Some of them started to murmur to themselves, but Bishop's attention got diverted by a whisper near his ear.
"We're not playing, right?" Aeyrin gave him a half-amused and half-concerned expression. She had been enjoying the sailor's revelry and their wild tales just as much as Bishop had while she sat next to him on some scratchy pillows with gaudy golden embroidery, as if cheaply imitating something straight from some Hammerfell palace. She was nestled to Bishop's side comfortably and his arm leisurely laying around her lower back was warming her, along with the rum of course, and along with the resting wolf half-splayed in her lap.
She was definitely not eager to share their wild tales. At least she didn't know which ones to share. Most of them were probably better off being kept a secret.
"No, we're not playing," Bishop chuckled under his breath. What would they talk about? He wasn't even sure he wanted to think about what the 'weirdest shit' that ever happened to them was. The abandoned house with a Daedric Prince in it was definitely up there, but that was not a fun story.
Thinking about Brelyna's weird experiments now left an oddly bitter taste in his mouth after everything that happened. And most of the other shit was definitely secret. Especially since Aeyrin had been enjoying keeping her identity from prying ears. There were absolutely no tales of dragons whatsoever being told by the two of them.
And they had already told the sailors all about the insane Potema hiding in the catacombs. Jack demanded to know almost instantly when the talk of adventures began. It was surprising that he even remembered Aeyrin saying anything about catacombs at all, given the state he was in when they met. But, in any case, the tale certainly did entertain, especially the part where Bishop accidentally stepped on Potema's skull and banished her spirit. But it was still not as far-fetched as the other stories shared that night. Bishop and Aeyrin were sure that there would soon be embellished tales told among the sailors about Potema taking over Solitude and turning everyone undead, or some shit like that.
"I 'ave one!" one of the sailors, a Breton woman named Frelie, exclaimed with excitement and everyone's attention turned towards her.
"I didn' even tell half of these fuckers yet, cause those I did tell wouldn' believe me," she chuckled merrily. "We 'ere just docked in that big-ass fortress on Betony. That's an island near Daggerfall," she turned towards Bishop and Aeyrin with the explanation, correctly assuming that they wouldn't know every tiny island on their trade route. "Is just full of pompous wizards and shit, but there's these small Orc communities in the main fortress on the island. They're always fun to drink with."
Some of the sailors nodded in accord, while Tibby and the other ones scoffed at Frelie instead.
"Pfft, this story again. It's bullshit and ya know it," a doubtful man, an Orc named Naszug, shook his head at her with a palpably angry expression.
"Shut it and lemme tell it," Frelie scowled at him. "And don't ya interrupt by spewin' shit 'bout the Orc honor." She rolled her eyes, surprisingly enough succeeding in quieting the Orc down, before she turned back to the audience of people who hadn't heard the story before – Jack, Bishop and Aeyrin and the last sailor present below deck – a Redguard named Amrlm. Jack's first mate, a Redguard woman, Camianta, was still looking after the ship up on the deck.
"Anyways," Frelie continued with her story. "I got drunk with this group of Orcs, they were all down in the dumps 'bout some shit. Somethin' 'bout that Malicat of theirs abandonin' them or some shit like that, so they were all sour 'bout that. But they were a fun bunch to drink yerself stupid with when they weren't goin' on and on 'bout that," she shrugged noncommittally, earning a derisive scoff from Naszug in the process. She ignored him, however, and only continued with her tale.
"So when we were all shitfaced prop'ly, they started to talk 'bout goin' somewhere else. Someplace better, they said. I didn't wanna leave the tavern, but they got all pushy and shit, so I went with'em. But then, when we were outside, Tibby 'ere ran into us and he was all panicky about our dear cap'n bein' lost somewhere again, so I went to look with Tibby," she chuckled at that. Jack was probably going through one of his 'curse' episodes back then. "The Orcs were pretty pissed, but they didn't make that much fuss out there on the street," she shrugged.
Tibby only smirked and shook his head while Jack looked at her in confusion. He probably didn't even know what night she had been referring to.
"Anyways, that was it," she grinned. "But the next time we were in that fortress, what's the name? Stoneteeth or some shit like that. Well, there were all these wanted posters plastered all around, with a few of those Orcs on'em. Turned out, they lured shitfaced fucks like me to some basement to sacrifice them or some shit like that, for that Melicamp of theirs, to earn his favor again."
She laughed loudly at her tale, but it was more disturbing than anything. Maybe Jack's curses were more of a blessing if they saved her from that fate by accident.
"It's Stonetooth," Naszug growled. "How do you still not remember? You been there like a hundred times," he crossed his arms around his chest and huffed in annoyance. "And it's Malacath. And he doesn't take some weak fucked up humans for sacrifice. That story's bullshit."
"Hey, I didn't say those fuckers were any smart!" Frelie scowled at him in return. "No one says their messed up plan woulda worked, ya dim fuck."
"Cultists aren't usually reasonable," Aeyrin gave her a weak encouraging smile. She definitely believed that story. She heard about plenty of these insane Daedra worshippers who got desperate for their masters' favors and did heinous acts just to prove themselves. "You're lucky you got out of that when you did."
"Hear hear!" Frelie chuckled merrily and she promptly raised the mug of rum in her hand. "To Jack's cursed ass savin' my life!"
"Ya sure you weren't drinkin' that rum that night, Frelie?" Jack narrowed his eyes at her. Of course. Everything bad happened because of that rum out of Oblivion in his mind. His comment instantly got a round of dismissive laughter from the small crowd.
"That's still nothing," Tibby smirked at her after a while. He had already heard her story before and he didn't seem that impressed with it. Either he didn't find it that shocking, or he didn't believe it either. "You know, at least you didn't actually come with them."
"Tibby, izzit about the elfies again?" Jack smirked at the Altmer in amusement.
"Yes, it's about the elves again. What else would it be?" Tibby snapped at him instantly. "I can't show my face around Windhelm anymore, you know?"
The rest of the sailors laughed at that again. There was obviously another story behind this, but this one everyone seemed to be already familiar with. Except for Bishop and Aeyrin, of course.
"Could ya ever, Tibby?" Jack snickered at him. "Does it matter if it's the elfies after ye or the Nords wantin' ya a head shorter 'cause of the gold skin?"
"There are Altmer living in Windhelm," Aeyrin turned to Jack. It wasn't as if they were beheaded just for entering the city. Granted, she only knew about two Altmer there – Niranye, the stall keeper at the market and fence for the Guild, and an unknown Altmer that was supposed to be another target for Calixto. He had mentioned wanting the woman's hair for his sick schemes, but Aeyrin had never seen her in the city. Still, she must have been there somewhere.
"They got lucky," Tibby scoffed at that. "Every stranger with gold skin is a Thalmor there in everyone's eyes. And guess what, it pisses the elves off. And then they do weird shit in revenge."
Tibby was obviously eager to tell his own story, as he so unsubtly alluded to it. The laughs quieted into mere chuckles as he started to weave his tale.
"So, I was tryin' to have a drink at that inn of theirs, near the gates. I drank there a few times with the others. People gave me the stink-eye, but nothin' else. You gotta be used to that in Skyrim anyway," Tibby scoffed. "But this time, I was alone and this one lughead got all uppity with me. Tried to pick a fight before I even got inside, telling me to go back to my 'Dominion'."
Aeyrin and Bishop only shared a brief knowing look. That sounded all too familiar, aside from the 'Dominion' part. They had no idea if it was actually that idiot Rolf, but it definitely sounded like him.
"I didn't wanna fight that juggernaut," Tibby shook his head. "So, I left. But before I could get back to the docks, another Altmer came up to me and stopped me. He said that the idiot's always givin' everyone trouble and he asked me if I wanted to drink with him and his friends somewhere else. So I thought: why not?" he shrugged with a wry smile.
"So this guy leads me outta the city and into some abandoned house nearby. There's a few guys there drinkin'. All Altmer. I didn't know what those schmucks were doin' there at all, but I didn't really give a fuck. They were all friendly, much friendlier than those fuckin' Nords in the city, so I stayed. We drank so fuckin' much," Tibby grinned widely.
"Now… now it gets… fuzzy," he chuckled wryly. "I don't 'member much. I was havin' fun, and then they were all excited to meet another High Elf and shit and they started talking 'bout me 'joinin' them'. I didn't know what it meant. I don't 'member it all. But I said 'yeah', for some daft reason," he shook his head at himself. "Next thing I know, they were askin' me to do some stupid 'initiation' or some shit. There were these Nords on the road, goin' from the city at night, and I was supposed to fuckin' rob them. I wasn't piratin' with Jack 'ere before, I never robbed no one in my life. And the Nords had a fuckin' armed merc with'em. I didn't know what to do."
The sailors chuckled at Tibby's recounting while Bishop and Aeyrin listened in rapt attention. It sounded like he had joined a bandit clan, not some cult as they had expected.
"So, I 'member comin' to those Nords and fuckin' beggin' them to give me some money. I told'em the other guys would come and kill'em if they resisted. I didn't want those shits to fuckin' die 'cause of my drunk ass," he slapped his hand on his forehead to punctuate the point. "By some fuckin' miracle, they decided it was for the best to give me a coin purse and send me on my merry way. That merc wanted a fight, I 'member that, but those folks had more sense than him."
"I wouldn't have fuckin' believed you had a backup for a second, dimwit," the Redguard, Amrlm, laughed at him merrily.
"Yeah, and you woulda been dead in a second too. Those fucks were waitin' nearby. Luckily, not close enough to hear that fuckin' pathetic display of mine," Tibby scoffed. "So anyway, we got some coin and we drank some more. The next thing I 'member was wakin' up in some fuckin' cold cave Gods-know-where. Their hideout apparently."
"What did you do then?" Aeyrin's eyes went wide at him. He obviously didn't stay with the group.
"Whaddya think? I wanted to fuckin' bolt. I 'membered some of what I done that night and I wanted back to the ship like crazy," Tibby chuckled. "I told'em I wasn't sure about being with'em, but they got all aggressive. Fuck, I still don't know how I got outta there. I just fuckin' ran when I saw an opening, I fuckin' even managed to stab one of those fuckers when they tried to catch me. Never fuckin' looked back. Can't believe I made it," he shook his head again in disbelief.
"Did you drink the cursed rum?" Aeyrin chuckled at him, which earned another bout of laughter from the group. Although it really sounded more like he was unbelievably lucky than cursed. That could have ended in a really ugly way for him.
"No, no, me pretty," Jack shook his head with a surprisingly somber look on his face. He was really serious about his curse ideas. "Much stranger shit happens after the cursed rum. Really fuckin' stranger. You end up wakin' up, married to a horker and shit like that."
"That's not that strange," Frelie piped in, barely containing her laughter. "My brother did that, and he was fuckin' sober to boot!"
That earned her more laughs, and in between the amused chuckles, Amrlm joined in. "Hey, I did that too! Couldn't get any better anyways," he roared in laughter.
"No fuckin' surprises there! Trolls can't be picky," Frelie retorted with a mischievous grin.
"Funny," Amrlm smirked meanly. "Don't 'member you bein' all that picky either that night we…"
"Shut yer trap, troll!" Frelie interrupted him with an annoyed huff, but it seemed like the rest of the sailors knew how that sentence was going to finish anyway. None of them seemed surprised and they only laughed more at their exchange.
When the laughs died down a little, Bishop turned his attention to Tibby again with an intrigued look on his face.
"So wait, there's an Altmer-only bandit clan near Windhelm?" He asked that with such eagerness. Aeyrin got confused by his interest for a second, before it dawned on her. They still needed to collect the blood for that Dwemer device. And since they were resolved to only ever use it on the people they would have killed anyway, such as bandits, it was a good opportunity. Especially since Altmer weren't easy to find among their ilk.
"Yeah," Tibby chuckled. "Buncha nutjob freaks, if ya ask me. Like there's enough Altmer near Windhelm for that shit even. There were only like six of 'em."
Six was plenty for their needs.
"Huh," Bishop nodded, with his curiosity still piqued. "So… when was this? You think they're still out there? And where was this hideout?" He asked all the questions at once, as if he couldn't decide which answer he wanted sooner.
But at that point, Bishop's interest began to sound dubious to the others as well.
"Ya got a lot of questions 'bout them," Tibby narrowed his eyes at Bishop. "Itchin' to stick a sword in some elves, are ya, Nord?"
Oh shit. That sounded way worse than he had intended. It really sounded like he was eager for some racial rampage.
"What? No!" Bishop quickly shook his head. Fuck, how should he explain that? They did technically need to find them specifically for their race. But fuck, that was just creepy to think about.
"Killing bandits is where we get the most money," Aeyrin quickly jumped in. She wasn't even sure how something like this popped into her head this fast – it wasn't really true. She was kind of proud of herself for that. "People pay well to get rid of them and small groups are less risky."
"Yeah," Bishop seemed to let out a subtle sigh of relief at her explanation. "And Windhelm's probably gonna be paying well for these ones," he smirked. Ulfric would definitely love to hear about some elven bandits being taken care of, not that they would ever involve him, even if he was paying. But it was believable that they would want to get some extra money from the racist shits for regular bandit hunting, right?
"Guess that's a point," Tibby nodded. He was probably also placated by Aeyrin jumping in and being on board with killing that group. "A'ight. Not like there's some love lost between us. I can show ya whereabouts it was. It happened like a year ago, before the port closed, so they might still be there. Think the Stormcloaks are too busy with other shit to bother with bandits."
Bishop and Aeyrin nodded at him in satisfaction. This could work out well for them. Maybe Karliah would even have some information about that group – she usually knew about stuff like that.
Without hesitation, Bishop got up on his feet and rushed to their designated cabin to get the map from Aeyrin's pack so that Tibby could mark the approximate location for them. It was probably going to be close to Windhelm and relatively close to their meeting point with Karliah.
Who knew that a drunken story would result in some actually useful information?
…
The wild tales and merry atmosphere lasted long into the morning hours.
It was almost dawn when everyone got too tired to continue. Jack was gone already, replacing his first mate Camianta above deck to make sure everything was running smoothly, while the woman herself went to her cabin to get some shut eye.
The rest of the sailors and Bishop and Aeyrin remained below decks for a while, but the stories ran out eventually and they had already had their share of food and drinks. It was time to call it a night at last. Or… morning, more accurately.
Bishop, Aeyrin and Karnwyr retreated into their small cabin. It was very cramped and they could barely fit in there. There was only a hammock suspended above the ground and a few crates taking up most of the space. Karnwyr could curl down on the floor to sleep, although he had been sleeping a lot before already, and the two of them had to share the hammock. There was no room for a bedroll there.
They didn't bother taking off their clothes. They were tired, there was limited room to change and the cabin was quite cold. The hammock was made out of a rope net, so even if Bishop's body heat would warm Aeyrin up, there would still be uncomfortable cold seeping through the holes from below. It was better this way.
Getting into the hammock proved to be a bit of a challenge on the constantly rocking boat, but eventually, they managed. Well, after Aeyrin practically fell on top of Bishop hard, making the hammock sway violently. It took a long while before she managed to position herself by his side properly and before the hammock calmed down a bit.
When they were situated at last, she let out a contented sigh as she nestled herself into his flank while he draped the simple blanket provided there over the two of them.
"You know, I never slept below decks on a moving boat before," Aeyrin mused idly. The constant motion wasn't very pleasant. She felt so unstable and like she had to hold onto Bishop tightly to steady herself, even though he was obviously moving as well with the rocking and swaying. "I did sleep for a couple of nights on that ship at the Anvil harbor that one time, but it was anchored. And on the ferry from Dawnstar, but I don't even remember that. I was so tired back then. It never felt like this."
"Yeah?" Bishop retorted. "I did, just once. I was kinda small though, but I remember it. Torban stole some ship at the Waterfront and we sailed all the way to Leyawiin to get away from the guards," he scoffed. "I slept in a hammock just like this one. Never really liked it though. Feels like there's nowhere to run, but you're still moving all the time."
"Yeah," Aeyrin shuddered a little in response and pressed herself closer to him. She hoped that she would be able to fall asleep like this, but she was probably too tired not to.
"You feeling sick?" Bishop gave her a concerned look when he felt her shiver against him.
"Not really… not yet, anyway," she smirked. It was still an unpleasant sensation though.
"Huh, and I here I thought you'd be all used to the 'motion of the ocean' after all that time with me," he chuckled at her mischievously.
"To be fair, I don't generally try to sleep through that," she giggled as she felt her cheeks heat up a bit. She didn't even have to think about what he meant whenever his voice took up that suggestive tone.
"Well that's good," he laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment."
With another soft giggle, Aeyrin nuzzled her head more firmly into the crook of his shoulder and he tilted his own to plant a kiss at the top of hers.
Hopefully they would get at least some sleep. There was not much else to do before they arrived at their destination anyway.
They were both slowly starting to doze off, only a few times disturbed by a particularly harsh movement of the boat and therefore the hammock.
Aeyrin fell asleep much sooner than Bishop did, despite her apprehension. And she seemed to be fine sleeping through the rocking, even though he had been noticing it more and more with each second.
Strange. It really seemed like the boat was moving more aggressively now. He had been trying to fall asleep for what felt like an hour and it was just getting worse.
Now he was more concerned about the frequency of the harsh motions than getting sick or anything like that. He had expected the sea to be calmer towards the morning hours, but he didn't exactly know if that was true. He didn't know much about the sea and sailing.
Another violent motion swayed the hammock, pressing Aeyrin a bit more unto him in the movement. She didn't even stir. He was glad that she was getting some good sleep, but he wished he would too. He was getting so tired.
Another. Fuck what was happening?
Before he could worry about it further, however, something else interrupted his pondering.
There was some commotion and a very loud sound all of the sudden, echoing through the ship. It was an air-horn.
Did Jack just blow an air-horn?!
Fuck! Something was happening.
"W-wha?" Aeyrin's eyes fluttered groggily. Even she couldn't have stayed asleep through that. There were sounds of feet rushing by the door to their cabin and then another sound of the air-horn.
Karnwyr promptly got up on his feet and started barking in alarm, causing even more commotion and making everything a bit more chaotic.
It seemed like they would find out just how sturdy this ship really was very soon.