Emmaline awoke in darkness. Her first impulse was to reach for her magic but something cold burned at her wrists and the winds of magic seemed to flow around her as though she were a natural void. Tentatively she tried to flex her wrists but found they were bound behind her back. She was naked save for the bindings and she could feel the sea breeze against her bare bottom as she tried to sit up. It took a few moments before her eye adjusted enough to the darkness to make out vague shapes. She was in a hold, apparently alone and fastened to the deck by a chain connected to her cuffs. Of Amal or any of the other crew members there was no sign. Above her she could hear dimly muffled voices speaking what she presumed was the Elven tongue.

"Ranald, have mercy on thieves and rogues," she muttered in Reikspiel trying in vain to pull herself to her feet. As though summoned by the sound a door opened at the end of the hold and a handsome looking elf in fine silks stepped through, holding a lantern that cast a faint sourcless light from within its angled crystal facets. He crossed the empty hold to stand over her.

"So this is the mighty mage who killed Ke'redian," he asked in intelligible if strangely accented Reikspiel. He paused for a moment.

"Yes, I speak your tongue, does that surprise you?" he asked with lofty contempt.

"You and a hundred thousand peasants who can barely wipe their own asses," she replied, forgetting Amal's advice to comply almost immediately. The Elf started slightly and then slapped her hard across the face, stunning her momentarily.

"You will learn some respect! Ke'redian had swum these oceans since before your kind learned to build mud huts," the elf snarled.

"We all get careless in our old age I guess," she responded. Ke'redian was obviously the name these evil elves had given to the sea dragon. The blast of steam must have proved fatal, even if not immediately so, which she supposed was good news, though she could find little immediate comfort in the fact.

"Impudent cow," the Elf snapped, "You will soon learn some respect!" He grabbed her right nipple and twisted hard with his sharp fingernails. Emmaline screamed and tried to double up but the bindings prevented her from moving. Tears started in her eyes as she clamped her mouth shut determined not to give her captor the satisfaction.

"If it weren't for the fact that you are worth a fortune where we are going, I would cut pieces off you and feed you to yourself until you were nothing but a blind lump of flesh," the elf hissed, finally releasing her nipple and then patting her bosom like a farmer slapping a cow of which he was fond.

"But don't worry, I will make sure that your voyage is unpleasant enough that you beg for the hell I will sell you into when it ends." With that the elf straightened and sauntered from the room, closing Emmaline into the darkness once more.