"Good to know. At least I'm not in armor, so if you do take offense and fling me overboard I won't sink like a stone." He pretended to give the question some thought. "You could possibly make a title out of it. Find a symbol of the office, and when something starts, proclaim yourself the official stir stick. What could go wrong?"

He nodded agreement for that. "The curse of the fair skinned. Doomed to fishing at night." He was lucky his armor covered as much as it did.

"'The usual' for you can be anything from blood mage cults to plots to destroy the city. Did you ever make it over to the Bone Pit?" He put his back into the strokes to get them facing the wake from a Galleon not too far away. The boat rocked more in the higher waves. "There were two harrowings this week. Both thankfully passed." It would always be nerve wracking, wondering if a mage would awaken an abomination, if they had lost yet another.