The Saga of Captain Wereshark , Part 4 Content . With our debts settled , we bid goodbye to Gnarlnose and Steggofins , left the frozen shores of Skyrim , and set sail laden with treasures twice as heavy as all the brave sailors we lost . The Pale Spirit was so laden with Nordic booty she plowed through the sea like a harbor seal , but we made port without so much as a sailor overboard . Unknown to us , our next expedition would be our most dangerous yet . We reached the port in Wayrest , and it took only a few days before Captain Wereshark made the acquaintance of Duke Gignac , the aging Breton adventurer . He purchased many of our Nordic relics and , impressed by my captain ' s legendary charisma ( and , more importantly , the urging of his oldest daughter , Lucette ) my captain suckered the old man into funding the Pale Spirit ' s next expedition to the Maormer islands of Pyandonea . Wearing a new red feather from Lucette in his crown , the Wereshark returned us to sea . Our stated purpose was to do what we could to open permanent trade relations with the Sea Elves , but the Wereshark , as always , intended merely to plunder all we could . Aside the war galleons Cliff Racer and Silver Arrow ( hired from Beldros Hlaalu for a decent fee and percentage of the booty ) we sailed with a wind at our backs and enough supplies to feed an army of ravenous Nords for months . As with all our expeditions , things went just fine until they didn ' t . Those Maormer sea serpents ? They aren ' t just legends . Our first encounter came shortly after we first sighted a jungle isle common to Sea Elves , in the distance cloaked by a dense fog . The sound of snapping wood and screaming men drifted across the sea as the Wereshark , myself , and every armed sailor rushed to the Pale Spirit ' s deck . We were just in time to see the Cliff Racer ' s broken hull sinking below the waves , wrapped in the scaled coils of an enormous snake . Never one for half measures , the Wereshark shouted for every archer on the boat to loose arrows . Arrows peppered the slimy beast as it dragged the Cliff Racer to her grave , yet no shaft could penetrate the beast ' s thick scales . That ' s when that old lizard Hard - Scales grabbed his poison daggers and leapt into the sea , shouting something about Sithis . That crazy Argonian has had a death wish since the day he signed on . Wouldn ' t you know it , as Mighty Flicka boomed warnings to the Silver Arrow from atop the mainmast and the Wereshark rallied every sailor capable of swinging a sword , something surfaced on the frothing sea . Old Hard - Scales , covered in glistening black serpent blood , and behind him , the bobbing length of a massive Maormer serpent . Stiff and dead as something dragged in by a barn cat . Now , don ' t ask me how Hard - Scales managed to get his daggers through its scales , or how he managed to breath under the sea for all that time , or how he knew his poison was vile enough to drop a snake twice as long as a galleon . All I know is Hard - Scales never talked about it , after , save for expressions of disappointment over failing to meet Sithis once more . As we took on survivors from the Cliff Racer , the Wereshark pledged a full chest of booty to Hard - Scales . No one complained . Wary of more serpents , the Wereshark gave orders to anchor off the shore of the fog - cloaked jungle isle , in shallow water where we could see anything between us and the sea floor . Pale Spirit and Silver Arrow sent four boats ashore with the Wereshark at their head . Yet not one water - colored Sea Elf showed his face when we made landing . We all thought the island abandoned . We could not have been more wrong .