Maybe there is hope after all, then.
Nico walked slowly down the length of the room, examining the weapons with a careful eye as he went. He hefted a sword, sighted down its length wistfully. In his line of work, or maybe his set of skills, something as elegant as a sword had never been something to learn. He’d learned and been tought to fight fast and dirty. Knife and club were all he needed.
He wished he had had someone to teach him, now.
He replaced the weapon, and turned back the way he had come. It was probably time to examine the crew’s quarters. He passed back through the ammo room, up the ladder and through the oar deck, and into the crew’s berthing.