Markus had half a mind to have them hit the Sea Drake with all they had to end it right now. They couldn't face her openly, but they might try to outmaneuver her. Hit it with a broadside while it tried to turn about. If they took out its mainmast it might crumble. Even with her superior numbers, Markus was fairly confident they could beat her if they boarded. But even as he tried to rationalize how good of an idea this was, he knew he was making it simply because he was frustrated. He wasn't used to letting rivals who wished him dead, live. 

Emmaline and Morgan could see him hesitating, something he never let even the crew see. The woman placed a hand on his arm gently. 

"We'll go south and try to grab the wind." He said not a second later. "Get the gun crews at the ready, Morgan and set the crew to head south along the coast. Em, see if you can buy some time in some way, or at least do some damage to that bastard's ship or..." He stopped short, remembering Emmaline's magical specialty. He pulled her aside as Morgan began shouting orders. 

In the distance, the Sea Drake moved with increasing speed. They couldn't hear or see anyone on deck yet, but it would only be a few minutes before they were in range of their cannons. Markus doubted it, but he sincerely hoped their ship did not also have a wizard of their own. Emmaline was talented with what she knew, but she would be the first to admit she wasn't a battle mage. Even if she very much looked like a powerful sorceress in her new attire.

"Can you make our cannonballs have a bit of more impact? Can you make them acidic in some fashion or combustible?" He asked her once they were out of ear shot. It had to be quick so he could take the helm, but before she could answer, a big hand poked his upper back with a fat finger. Markus could smell ale and sweat, and he turned to see Sketti Hammerhand there, and two men holding casks of something strange just behind him. Casks that were vaguely smoking, wafting steam through small minute holes atop them. Markus gave him a questioning look. 

"Captain!" The Dwarf declared proudly, holding up a casket of his own with one hand, impressed as ever with Dwarfen strength. "I think I can help ye bring up the fog of war, as it were. That is, if you're planning on escapin'." 

His wink did not reassure the captain, but what choice did he have?