| What do you do here?
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| Heh...After that whole ordeal with Sevrin, I often ask myself the selfsame question. Listenin' to my blokes whinge and grumble, I do wonder if I did right by them, leavin' behind our life at sea. I've done my share of soul-searchin'. As a pirate, you can plunder in one day riches to last a lifetime—Oschon willin', of course. Meanwhile, a farmer has to wait moons to reap his harvest. As for which is the better life, it's not me place to say. But one thing's for sure: I take as much pride in my oranges today as I once did in my plunder.
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| What kind of place is this?
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| I'd think, after your last bit of adventurin' here, that you'd know exactly what kind of place this is. And with any luck, my blokes are startin' to see the same. For all their complainin' I'll be thrice damned if I didn't see a glint of pride in their eyes after the last harvest. We've much still to learn, but if the heart is willin', the head and hands are quick to follow. Years of captainin' have taught me that much. That goes for Sevrin, too, no doubt. His mates won't be quick to forgive, but if he's willin' to do the work, I'll not deny him a place here.
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