He smirked at the cook, glad that he had finally weaned himself off the drink, or at least doing far less than he had on board the ship that had shanghaied him and the other four psychos. "True, but we have weapons enough to make everyone else think twice about taking a pot shot. And I reckon damn few have as many war mages. We might just be the lightest warship in the sea at the moment. Though the sooner we get to the Rock and see about how well we can patch the holes we knocked in her, the sooner we can get to the squib. He must love us by now. Four ships including this one, and it is the only one left."<br/><br/>He glanced at the port of the ship, and smiled at the sight of the two tidewater dragons scuffling for the prime 'nest' in the figurehead of the ship. "Sandara, Fishguts, when you have a minute, a word with the two of. Though not at the same time. Meet me in the cabin at the aft, that seemed to be the bitches cabin. And have someone run up the Terror Inc. flag, and have hers brought down. I want it in my cabin, so I can laugh at it every now and again."<br/><br/>Once both of them came in, he told them to relax, and asked both of them only a few questions. Sandara was asked if she wanted to stay on board, and if she would mind him picking up another healer, just to make sure they had enough to go around, while Fishguts was asked if he wanted to stay on as ships' cook, or take another job. Once that was done, he headed back out, and took the helm himself, letting the helmsman take another position, to ensure they got in to the safety of the Rock as fast as possible.