Emmaline awoke from a dream in which Amal was pinching her bottom while she tried to read. Amal pinching her bottom was good deal more engaging than reading so she didn't much mind. Wet splatters on her cheek bought her round as chilly raindrops began to fall. Sitting up she found herself sitting on a patch of dark grass beside Amal. Glancing around she thought she picked up the shattered remnants of her spell, though now it was broken the sorcerers glass was fading into vapor.

"Where are we," she asked, her voice gaining strength with each syllable and the realization that they weren't either dead or drowned, which, now that she had a minute to think about it, would just be a subcategory of dead. Amal looked incredibly relived when she spoke and she glanced down at herself to make sure she hadn't been wounded.

"I was hoping you could tell me," Amal said helping her to her feet and then enfolding her in a hug that crushed her too him, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss for a moment before the irritated snapping of the carpet bought them back to the immediate situation. The rug apparently didn't much care for being rained on, a reasonable enough outlook she supposed, though after a year and a half in Araby she was happy to see even this chilly rain.

"Well it dosen't look like anywhere I have ever seen," Emmaline admitted. The cold windswept coast might be anywhere on the Northern Coast of the Empire though the trees didn't have the overgrown and wild look of the Riekwald or the mighty Drakwald forest. Nor did they have the overly manicured appearance that the smaller growth of forest in Bretonnia typically displayed. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious but it didn't seem like they would have had time go drift all the way east to the Empire.

"Well wherever we are, we aren't slaves," Amal said with a confident grin, somewhat betrayed by the fact he was beginning to shiver.

"Well we are going to be dead from exposure if we don't find some shelter," she observed. In the distance she spotted Brenly and what looked to be the remains of the mast. She glanced over the cliff at the storm tossed sea below. They must have cleared the escarpment by no more than a few feet and she was glad to have been unconscious rather than uselessly terrified.

"Let's collect Sir Brenly and then maybe we can find some shelter in the trees, at least we can get out of the rain."