The Saga of Captain Wereshark , Part 5 Content . The Pyandonea Expedition , Continued It was only after the crew finished dragging the boats ashore that it started . Irregular growling and snorting peppered with ear - splitting snaps of breaking wood , like a wild boar rutting on a bed of rotted timbers . It came from somewhere in the thick cluster of skinny trees that crept up on the white sand beach . Any other captain would have had us back on the boats and out to the Pale Spirit before you could gather enough spit to fill a thimble , but the Wereshark ' s a different sort . He called us all to order on the white - sand beach , his booming growl forming sailors up as pretty as a military procession . The first sailor to gut whatever beast made that teeth - grinding racket , the Wereshark proclaimed , would get his pick of plunder items from the expedition , as well as a welwa steak dinner in the Wereshark ' s personal cabin . Just like that , the crew went from worried to eager , for battle and everything else . IF you ' ve never had welwa steak , dear reader , know there ' s nothing better . The way Bagroga salts and cooks it , it tastes like beef and salted cheese and slides down your gullet like greased plantains . No man who sails with the Wereshark can smell it without their mouth watering , and I ' ll admit , even my own stomach grumbled its assent . The Wereshark broke us into groups . Hard - Scales would lead a party consisting of Bugnose , One - Eyed Bahzi , and five sailors from the Cliff Racer along the beach , in case the forest beasts ventured out to the sea or there was habitation to be found and looted . Mighty Flicka would lead the tribe of Nord axe swingers , who signed on with us at the Starving Dog , east into the forest to kill or flush whatever was making that rhythmic growl , with Galena Two - Scars along the scout . Never did I see a Wood Elf happier to see trees . The Wereshark chose to lead the last group himself . That including his loyal first mate ( yours truly ) , the Snowclaw twins , Vimy Lacroix , and the exiled High Elf Neramo . We were to scout the rocky shoals to the south of our landing position and circle around to Hard - Scales ' s group . We were a smaller party than the rest , but I ' ve never met a knife - ear better at making people explode than Neramo the Mad Mage . The shoals were treacherous but empty , and we trekked for almost an hour , listening to that horrible growling , before we came across a bunch of empty huts made out of sticks , mud , and leaves . No one was home and there was nothing in the homes but giant egg shell fragments , but it confirmed the island was inhabited , or had been , until whatever was it that forest got hungry and came out on the beach . The growling came and went , teeth - grinding as ever , but we ' d heard no screaming or shouts of terror from the other parties . That meant whatever it was , Mightly Flicka hadn ' t found it yet . I almost pitied whatever was making the racket until it stepped out into the beach and stared at us , a four legged lizard bull twice as tall as Bugnose . The thing had green scales and , I swear by Mara ' s skirts , a glittering trident shiny as one you ' d see carried by some stuffy Altmer Queensguard on the streets of Auridon . Needless to say , no one objected when Neramo hit it in the face with a fireball .