Amal wasn't entirely certain what Emmaline expected to happen; If she would appear in a puff of smoke or there would suddenly be an explosion on the opposite end of the ship. She hadn't told him to wait around either, so once he set Sir Brenly free he helped him up and made his way to the door. The old former knight rubbed his wrists and grumbled and bebothered. He might have once been a great soldier but the last decade or two spent in wealth had him mumbling at most things, from being free of Dark Elf chains to if he had gotten his supper a minute later than expected. 

Amal found the elven steel door and attempted to open it, but it was locked. He cursed, knowing he would need to use the special key and knowing after that there would be no fooling any Dark Elves that attempted to come in, as there would be no lock to lock. 

"Once we're out of this room, there's no turning back." Amal told the old man, who wiped his hands on his stained trousers and looked completely finished with this place. 

"Let's go." He announced, and Amal found himself not question Sir Brenly anymore. He said it with such surety, he felt like what they were doing was going to work. The thief knelt down and pressed the key to the doorlock, and watched in awe as the iron fell away like black sand into the puddles of water below. Once that was accomplished, Amal grabbed the door handle and turned it slowly, not making a sound. He opened the door but a crack and peered through to see a far nicer and far drier corridor of the ship. There was no elf in sight. Just the flickering light of the lightning coming through other windows that were likely closed and sealed. 

Satisfied, he opened the door and stepped through. His wet shoe crunched on the floor, puddles of water spreading on his feet. He didn't care, nor did Sir Brenly as the elder stepped out. 

"Hey!" A voice rang from within. Amal spun to see a man with wild mad eyes staring at them. The thief knew immediately what he was doing. He wanted to get the approval of his masters by outing the escapees. "HEY! HELP! THEY'RE ESCAPING!!" Amal just grinned, knowing over the storm the man's plan had been flawed. Not only that, but he simply closed the door and muted the yelling to even them. 

"Traitor," Brenly spat. 

"Agreed." Amal said, not hesitating to begin looking in each opened door and wondering if he dared to open any of the closed ones. The ship was low in the sea but long as sloops often were. There was perhaps only one or two floors to traverse belowdecks. There was a cargo room filled with stacks of boxes and what looked like an eerily adorned messhall with malevolent iron carvings placed on the walls, showing screaming visages and torture scenes like they were things to emulate. Amal shuddered to think what would happen if they didn't get out of here soon. 

A shadow was cast on the walls behind them as they reached the stairs, making the northern and southern men coiled to spring on whoever it was, only to see it was Emmaline stepping down from the high top of the stairway in nothing but a silk garment. Amal's eyes widened. Not only at the sight of her, but her bruises and cuts. "Emmaline!" He said as loud as he dared, rushing to her. One hand feeling her wrists and the other cupping her cheek, he shook his head. "I told you to comply with them..." He breathed, but was so relieved to see her he kissed her passionately in the middle of the hall. 
[@Penny]