Ray had enjoyed the peaceful interlude between islands. He drilled with his new rapier and dueling dagger since it had been months since he had used that combination of arms. He also spent some time teaching Runali the fundamentals of dueling and swordsmanship. Since dueling had come naturally to him, he wasn't the best teacher. He had to explain concepts that had been second nature to him for so long, he forgot most of the details. He let Alicia do most of the actual teaching, while he imparted more of the philosophical aspects.

[i]“I was taught to be like the Basilisk: despite its size it is a frighteningly agile beast, wickedly deadly and lethal in more ways than one. If it's gaze doesn't paralyze you outright, it's venomous teeth will kill you in seconds, or its sharp claws will shred you or its sheer weight will simply crush you.” He feinted to the side and Runali fell for it. Ray let his rapier whip to the other side and slap her on the shoulder with the flat of the blade. “You must be prepared for all avenues of attack...” He then moved inside her instep and swung his foot, knocking her off her feet. “...and exploit them in turn.”[/i]

In hindsight, he had been rather hard on Runali, but his teachers were hard on him, educating him through hard knocks. At the time, he hadn't been appreciative, but he learned later that swordplay was an art that had no use in coddling, and was grateful for his rigorous instruction. 

He had wanted to ask Alicia to spar with him, but figured it would be best to wait until they could purchase some practice weapons. Both their skill with the sword was great enough that to hold back would simply be a waste of time, and they didn't want to hurt each other needlessly.

Ray was sound asleep when the ship lurched to the side and dumped Ray out of his hammock. He sleepily tried to get up, unsure of what happened only to be thrown back towards his hammock. “Lords of Lendria, what-?” He scrambled to find his footing in the rocking ship, anxious at the loss of stability. 

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Emerging onto the deck, his fears were confirmed. A storm had unexpectedly taken the ship. Nolan was rather bare, and Ray was rather glad he had kept his work clothes on when he went to bed. He moved to help Nolan secure the loose cargo onboard the ship lest they lose any more; somewhere in the back of his mind he registered a howling that wasn't the wind, a howling that sounded like a lament for rum. He pushed it out of his mind and focused on the task at hand and tried not to think about the fact that they could be tossed from the ship and left stranded a hundred leagues from the nearest land or ship.