The Dark Elf was by far the best swordsman he had ever fought. Not that he had a lot of dueling experience himself, but he imagined wielding a blade for decades if not centuries made one very familiar with it. The Elf sneered mockingly, his hair tied in a bun to keep it out of his eyes. It took all of Amal's agility and cunning to keep the corsair's sword at bay, and good fortune along with Emmaline in all of her glory saved his life as the Dark Elf fell onto the deck without a sound. 

Amal grabbed Emmaline's hand and turned, at the corner of his vision he saw the Captain get gutted, crimson colored entrails spilling along the wooden deck. "Come on!" He yelled, pulling her with him desperately. Amal knew the carpet was their only option of getting out of there as Emmaline said. Unfortunately for them, they only took 3 steps towards the stairway leading belowdecks before a net fell upon them. Emmaline screamed in distress and Amal reached for his blade to cut them out, but he found the net followed his arm and gave him limited range of motion. 

To his horror, it clung to their skin like a spider web. A mad cackling erupted behind them as the two were suddenly yanked off their feet to hit the floor of the deck hard. Amal tried twist and keep Emmaline's fall from being as rough, but he couldn't move and they both found heavy bruises on their bodies. Beyond Emmaline he saw the last sailors being mercilessly slaughtered as the rest were cornered by net throwers. At first the Arabyan wanted to rip out of the strange net and loudly proclaim he would never be enslaved again. But he knew how best to act when it came to these sorts, elf or man. 

"Emmaline," he said to her in a hushed tone as they began to get dragged. He didn't know if they were going to be put together or be apart. He didn't know where they were being taken. The thief only knew they had precious few moments before... "Emmaline, listen to me! Don't fight them. We'll get out of this. I promise." He said. "Do what they say and you'll live. I will get us out!" Dark Elven voices spoke beyond their vision in their strange, alien tongue. Some of them might speak Riekspiel or even Arabyan, but likely only the more educated ones and the slave drivers themselves, not these riff-raff. They knew only to capture and butcher whoever they came across. 

"Look at me, Em...Look at me!" He cried hoarsly as he felt the feet of their captors approaching. He couldn't hold her hand but he tried to reach for her anyway. His fingers could only likely scrape the floorboard. Seconds before they were knocked out, his eyes met hers.

"I love you." 
[@Penny]