"Fire aft cannons right at her deck!  See if we can spook the crew."

Immediately, one of the crew bellowed the order into one of the brass speaking tubes that led down to the gun deck while Galen Aldwin examined the illusion surrounding him as he stood within the castle of the Graven Peril examining the situation.  Beside him, a miniaturized version of their wooden vessel hung, seemingly stationary, sails taut as it ran.  Behind it, an Elven Man'o'War, her verdant leaves completely unfurled and gaining on the smaller ship.  Invisibility would not work here.  This Elven ship of the line would surely have their own magicians ready to either see through it or dispel it.  The Graven Peril, a Brigantine, was faster, and fleeing.  It was drawing away from the Man'o'war but too slowly.

Balls of fire, hurled from the pursuing fleet's chase cannons splashed across the ship's magical shields.  Desperately, Galen peered across the deck, examining the illusion that had been cast for him.  Not every captain did this.  Most stood beside the scrying sconce and peered down into its depths but the Elven woman standing there was doing this for him.

"There," he articulated, gesturing with his hand as he strode through the illusion, "Helm, descend here.  Straight into the planet as steep as you can manage.

"Tell Durgan that we'll need to change out the circle.  I want an air elemental in there.

"Ready sails!  Prepare to reef!  Secure catapults and ballista!"

-and thus it began.  Galen always marveled at the way ship combat worked.  Sailors moved like ants, scurrying about the ship, doing a thousand small details.  So much preparation for what always amounted to just a few seconds.  In a way, he saw it like spell casting.  Tens of minutes spent moving energies, shaping them into forms and tying them off so that later one could utter several arcane words and provide a flourish to bring all that power crashing down.

In several short minutes the planet before them was looming in the wide bay windows of the castle.  The helmsman leaned into the helm, diving the Graven Peril into the planet's atmosphere.

"Reef sails!  All hands.  Brace.  Brace.  Brace."

"Sir!" the helmsman called out, "The Helm!"

Galen stepped backwards, out of the illusion and helped pull backwards on the ship's wheel.  The Peril fought hard against them, fighting them, not wanting to pull out of the dive.  The ship was streaming light as flames washed over the ship's shields.

"What in the nine hells!" he called out as the Graven Peril plunged and the world became washed in light.  The illusion of the world around them winked out of existence and Galen looked over towards the elven woman, seeing her and a half dozen other spectral images of her as she was being split into a hundred blurring shadows.  Galen looked back to see the same of himself, of being pulled apart at the celestial seams.  The forms separated and he watched himself walk towards sconce, then towards the window, being flung backwards.  He heard heard a horrific cracking sound as the hull gave way and one of his selves was hurled into the blazing fire that surrounded the disintegrating ship.  Clasping his head he bent over and finally, mercifully blacked out.

***

The Graven Peril burst out into the endless void between worlds, the crew shaken.  It was seemingly without power.  Galen awoke, feeling a weight upon his body.  He opened his eyes, seeing only the sole of a woman's bare foot.  Gently he grasped the woman's leg by the ankle and lifted it aside.  Assallya, his ambassador and confidence woman, was flat on her back, unconscious atop him.  He slapped gently at her thigh until she awakened.

"By Sharess' tits," she murmured as she drowsily awoke, "What was that?"

"I'm as trapped in a drow's cavern as you are," he replied as he helped her rise, "Check on Daren.  See if he's hale."

Galen arose and peered out the large bay windows to see the stars lazily drifting to the right.  Then, before his eyes, emerging from the edge of the left most window was something that obscured the stars.  He watched in wonderment as the vessel, what seemed to be as solid as a brick, black as charcoal and the size of a large town came into view.  Where were the sails?  It was massive and to his eyes, seemingly dwarven.  That would explain why he couldn't see any crew.

"I think we need to have a conference..." Galen said as he peered out the window.


[center] *** [/center]

It took only ten minutes to come to a conclusion on their next action.  They were trapped in empty space and who knew how far away from the nearest ley line.  As a result they were becalmed.  They needed help.  If this was a dwarven ship, or something like it, it could perhaps move under its own power.

The occupants of the other vessel, as was seen through the scrying pool, seemed strange to them.  It had taken several minutes of scrying to figure out where their command and control structure was situated and that was mostly by scrying up and down corridors following people that looked like they may be important.

Finally, they were ready and while Antilus, the wizened old mage held the scrying image steady Assallya began to cast her own spell, projecting her image through the water, across space and into the strange headquarters of the not-dwarven vessel.

The elven woman, arrayed in loose silks slowly manifested.  She didn't want her image to simply pop into existence.  She wanted them to notice her slowly coming into being like a ghost coming out of the ether.  That way she would give them a chance to adjust to the sudden intrusion.  She was a beautiful woman, with long slender limbs, smooth pale skin and a number of jewels.  Bracelets adorned her wrists, anklets were on her ankles and she was barefoot like one of the ancient oracles of Kobol.  She had the countenance of a goddess with a small tapered chin and almond shaped eyes.  Long mascaraed lashes regarded the Command and Control area of the Columbia and she smiled gently.  Keeping her arms apart, long fingers splayed, she assumed as non-hostile a pose as she could imagine.  It wouldn't do if these people accidentally cast a spell and consumed one another with fire.

"Greetings strangers," the image said in their own language as it became more and more solid, "Be at peace.  I am not truly here.  My name is Assa'Alliyeh Kressanthair and I represent the ship listing off your port side.  We mean you no harm.  In truth, we are in desperate need of your aid."