"Kraxian," Rathiks begins darkly, "you mistake me. I care little for the charity you provided for your fellow fanatics turned coward. This city is slowly being swallowed by the waters, and as each day goes by, less and less salvage comes in to repair this ketch. While ether once ran richly, it grows thin. We starve, Wolf, and soon this world will take our home if it cannot be repaired. Now, again, tell me why I should grant you welcome into my ship."