A strong wind is tossing the fragment of a sail which is hanging over the large, open window.

The sail is too small to cover the entire window, and, through the gaping hole, the dark night is breathing inclement weather.

There is no rain, but the warm wind, saturated with the sea, is heavy and damp.
Here in the tower live Haggart and his sailor, Khorre.

Both are sleeping now a heavy, drunken sleep.

On the table and in the corners of the room there are empty bottles, and the remains of food; the only taburet is overturned, lying on one side.