Nayyer: "Tall papa, give me piece. Does this pile of wood have a bottom?"
Qesem: "Be glad we have a barricade to clear. Had Tava's winds blown toward the bay, the whole dock would have burned."
Nayyer: "Taking our honour dead with it, no doubt."
Qesem: "Shame they built it in such a hurry. This crate was filled with Cyrodilic wine."
Nayyer: "What a sad waste."