Rhyfalim sighed, having watched all of the proceedings happen so quickly, he'd had no way to take part. He could have gotten them a ride for free, without needing to fool and thieve their way aboard. What did they think a Redguard was good for, if not sailing? Even he, a warrior that had spent much of his life on land, had excellent sea legs, and captains would have been clamoring to have him work aboard their ships.
Finally, he turned to Smutticus, and answered his earlier question, "We should at least stay with them until Solstheim. No doubt, it's safer than here in Skyrim, considering only Mora has any sway there," he paused, bemused by the actions of the newest passenger, a hulking brute of a man in chainmail, and continued, "If worse comes to worst, we can always be rid of them at night. No doubt they could try to track us, but we could always join up with some of Solstheim's famous reavers, and tell them this group's got a hefty bounty. And, of course, leave before they - the reavers - all die."
Sighing again, Rhyfalim strode over to the brute, as he tossed the captain away, and brought his sword to bare. With one fluid motion, Rhyf hooked the edge of his blade on the man's feet, and threw him off balance, causing him to land on his stomach and knocking the breath out of him. Planting a boot on his back, Rhyf lowered his blade to the raucous man's neck, making a calm, but easily identifiable, threat. And waited.
