An apple recoils from the floor of the mustering hall, no bits breaking and seeming to bound along without the slightest hint of damage. Leaning back in his seat, Kadder groans, "E'erythin' is ploughin' frozen.. The fruit, the meat an' 'ell, e'en the stones. Come to think o' it, I've not seen tides o' sand since we've been 'e-." His speaking trails off as a slew of men enter the hall screaming, "Ave Lunde!!," many of them still dressed in crudely fitted furs and pelts. A slightly agitated look across his face, Kadder stands, hand shifting to the hilt of his blade, "The 'ell is this?" One of the men smirks, looking to Kadder and reaches out as if bracing for a hug, "Come, Kadder, you think those lost to sea, 'lost!?" Muttering he approaches the men, "'ow many more of ye' are there then?" Shrugging, the figure steps forward and turns to the door, "Well, we've landed with a this lot and there are others with the proper charts to arrive. Could be more, or this could be it. We'll just have to wait and see."