Damian had walked up to the two, plopping beside them. His eyes were slightly red and seemingly sunken, and the near empty bottle of whiskey he carried stated the obvious answer he chose. Wiping at his eyes, he said, "Tell ya what. We find the man who did that. We skin him, impale him at the arms to a wall, and leave him - in that order.". He stared into the water a bit, before getting angry and tossing it into the water with all his strength. "I'll fuckin' kill 'em nah' jus' 'is killer, the entire bleedin' Order O' Chlaremagne! If ah die doin' it, so be it! If I take 'em with me, I feast with him!". He huffed a bit, before going sad. "I... It was my bleedin' fault. Ah was drinkin' wif mah men, livin' it up on out ship, havin' the times o' our lives and got blackou' drunk. I shoulda been there. I coulda been there."