Emmaline cursed herself for not having come up with some better way to time her actions with Amal, though it was hard to see what she could have done. She had remained in her prison for several hours and though the Captain hadn't visited her again, probably being too busy with his ship to sport with his captive, a guard checked in on her every so often. Each time she merely sat, glaring at them in her ersatz restraints as the storm worsened. Finally she could stand it no longer and came to her feet. Asp, still a tattoo seemed to slither down her arm, the moving ink extremely disconcerting till it settled around her wrist. She mumbled the counterspell under her breath and the restraints melted away, flowing back into the form of the elvish sword. Picking the weapon up she crept to the hatch and pushed it open, steading herself on the heaving deck as she did so. As she expected the hall beyond was clear, in weather like this she expected all hands to be aloft.

She picked a direction at random, belatedly wishing she had interrogated Asp more closely as to Amal's location. Creeping along the corridor she passed what she imagined were officers quaters and stopped in one to steal a long silken shirt to hide her nakedness. The thing wouldn't do as a disguise, or any real protection from the weather, but it offered the mental protection that clothing provided. Reaching the rear of the ship she found what must have been the officers wardroom and snagged a block of cheese from a cabinet. Hoping that Dark Elves didn't make cheese from anything particularly awful, she took a bite and found it sharp and agreeable, and a balm to her empty and now cramping stomach. The sound of wind suddenly increased and she ducked into the mess a second before a drenched elf came down a stairway, heading for her prison. She waited a moment and then stepped out behind him. The elf must have sensed the motion because he began to pivot in time to see her two handed stroke come down, the clumsy slash catching him between neck and shoulder. There was a jarring in her wrist as the razored elven blade bounced of his shoulder blade and the Elf reeled back with a gasp of pain. Emmaline delivered two more wild slashes at the crippled elf, managing to slice of an ear and gash him across the crown before she finally shove the point into his chest. Even so the elf didn't die quickly, his elegant hands scrabbling at the blade for long moments until blood gouted from his lips and he stiffened. 

Without waiting to check the body she vaulted up the stairs and lifted the hatch cover every so slight. WInd and rain lashed in at her and she had a brief impression of wild rolling seas light by lightning. SHe was at the rear of the ship, below the deck where the wheel was located, if elves used such things. Along the deck she could see elves heaving at ropes and others skipping through the rigging. The second ship was visible ahead of them and off to port perhaps two hundred yards, a dark shape barely visible through the spray.