The day turned to night, and still Amal had seen hide nor hair of any Dark Elf. Soon he wondered if he would starve, but seeing as Sir Brenly was still alive, they likely fed and watered the prisoners on certain days. To his dismay, he discovered his feet were bound not by shackles but by the very stuff the net had been made out of. Either they had smaller versions of the strange item or they cut all of the net off of him save the trappings on his ankles and feet. 

Off and on he found himself nodding off every so often, the world going from grey to darkness as the sun set. Unfortunately for his sleep, the ship had turned in the night and mannslieb shined through the upper window, spilling eerie light onto Amal's form, as if he and the two prisoners next to him were on a soft spotlight. He had tried for hours and hours to unlock the shackles to him with one of the many concealed pins he kept on himself. He felt he almost had it, but once he could feel the first mechanism springing, he realized he didn't know where he'd go from there. Better to wait until the Dark Elves are under the impression that no one had the will to escape, and then do his best to find Emmaline and if he could, help Sir Brenly escape as well. 

As he closed his eyes once again, he found he noticed a small flickering on the light that shined in. He paid it no mind and did his best to fall back asleep, away from the aches of his current situation. It wasn't until he felt something small tickle his arm that his eyes flew open and he turned to see Emmaline's snake! 

"What are you doing here(!)?" He whispered as loudly as he dared. The Cobra simply looked up at him, cocking its head to the side in an almost dog-like fashion. He didn't understand what was happening, but he could cry if he wasn't worried over being further dehydrated. Emmaline was alive and that was all that mattered. Perhaps if they could somehow find the carpet and whatever else Emmaline had, items no doubt stores somewhere in the ship, they could bust out of here. 

"Look, go and tell Emmaline I'm thinking of a plan, ok?" He asked the snake, but instead of nodding it slithered over to his hands and flicked it tongue once more. Amal halted his thoughts. 

"Why're...wait...are you wanting to unlock my shackles?" He asked, but instead the snake gently grasped the small iron lockpick in his hands. It was strange, but he wasn't going to argue. It poked the lightly woven chainmail he had on underneath his nearly torn tunic. Amal tried to look, not quite understanding what it wanted. "The lockpick? I need that." He argued quietly. It pocked his chainmail again with it, and tried to pry a bit of it off of him with its fangs. Realization dawned on him, remembering Emmaline's magical expertise. 

"Just use the lockpick, it's iron." He told it, but the snake insistently yanked at the chain at his torso. "Ok ok..." He opened his hand to take back the iron lockpick. The snake dropped it in his hand and he began to carve a bit of the small steel rings off at the weakpoints, more unwounding them than cutting persay. Chainmail, as most things, could be unbound if you knew how. Silently the familiar grabbed a small 'chain' of rings and moved over to his lap and gave a bow to him, very formally. The snake had better manners than he did, he thought. 

"Tell her I'll be ready when she is..." He told the snake, but it gave no indication it heard him. 

It turned and made its way across the small pond in the center of the brig and slithered up and out the window once more, gone from his eyes. He slumped, knowing he couldn't possibly sleep after [i]that[/i]. 
[@Penny]