The sturdy Imperial vessel steered its way through the quiet, clear water, well on its way to Ebonheart. The bright starlight reflected in the black sea, making it look like the ship was floating through the sky. A faint thud broke the silence, and was followed by a second, third and a fourth one. Curio stopped by the reeling and tried to make out any signs of the oncoming Vvardenfell, but there was nothing but darkness ahead of them. He took a few steps towards the mast, and sat down against it. He hadn't spelt well since they left the mainland, partly because he hated the hammocks on board. He was also nervous about going to Vvardenfell; he'd heard so many frightening stories about the natives there, and their ways with outlanders that he'd grown suspicious about the whole island. There was a series of faint thuds coming from inside the ship, so Curio concluded that someone was coming up from downstairs. Curio couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or not, so he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep in case it was someone he didn't like.