Getting a back full of wooden shrapnel is never a fun experience. 

The wizard's mind was caught in a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that clouded his emotions. He couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't. The figure seemed... compassionate? Or simply of aid? And then suddenly, it came. A cannonball, most likely. But regardless of what it was, it's path sent a hail of splinters into his back, piercing his cloak with ease. The force shoved Card against the ground, and the pain surged through his spine.

After that, Card's movements were sluggish to say the least. While his pride would refuse his acceptance of help from one of his cabin-mates, he wished he had accepted it about halfway through his attempt at practically crawling up the steps on to the deck. With every crashing wave or rocking lull, the acid in his stomach getting upset enough to nearly spill from his lips. But he just forced it back down his throat every time.

By the time the wizard emerged on to the deck, the scene was utter chaos. The Tiefling seemed to be inclined in some sort of magic. This ship was clearly engaged in combat, which was something Card was not particularly suited for. He did have some tricks up his sleeve still.

Card raised his staff, one of the few possessions the wizard still had, and slammed it once against the ground. He pointed the tip of the staff from one railing of the ship to the other, muttering under his breath in an ancient language even he barely understood on a bad day. From out the tip of the staff, a line of arcane energy began drawing an glowing, interconnected web along the ship. It formed around those on the ship's deck, seeming drawn to secure them to some extent as waves seemed to crash against the ship's hull.