Stavanger Bay wild and water take us both

“Aye, ye heard right. Shark divin',” he assured the other male with a wicked flash of his teeth in a smile. It was then that Brig mentioned he wasn't fond of fighting and that he'd make a fair fisher instead with a knack for stories. It was a weight off of Smoke's shoulders; he didn't want to be the one responsible for having this fellow pursue the life of a Rigger with little interest in the fight. He wouldn't have lasted the week, that was certain, but the marauder thought it would be good to have someone aim to fill their caches. Fishers were hard to train, so it was nice when luck managed to swing one close by.

Of course, most of what fell from the pirate's mouth was out of jest. He'd prefer a good laugh to a good cry any day, but Brig would learn the ups and downs of Smokestep's mood the longer he stuck around. “Ye sound to me like ye'd make a fine Striker,” he remarked in a more serious tone than before. “Hard work but I'd like to see ye do it. I'll be watchin' after all.”