"I don't think..." Emmaline began, pulling a belaying pin free and swinging it at the onrushing thug in a graceless arc. The cultist lashed out with his cudgel, luckily for the young wizard her blow had brought her enough time to stumble back out of the way, tripping on a coil of rope line and falling on her bottom. The thug was wide eyed, all but frothing at the mouth, but he had enough combat sense to turn to meet Neil before he was blind sided. Emmaline scrambled to her feet and backed to the gunnel of the barge. By now the sluggish but powerful current had pulled the barge out into midstream. If Emmaline were a heroine in a Detlef Sierck play this would be the moment where she thrust a flaming torch into the powder and heroically sacrificed herself to save the city. Touching the powder off here would spare the docks, and the walls the cultists meant to breach. Emmaline wasn't averse to being heroic, but not at the cost of her own precious skin.

"We've got to..." the deck exploded as something bloodslicked and chitionous smashed it's way up with a shower of splinters that knocked Neil and his attacker off their feet. The thing looked to be about the size of a bull, although most of that was in legs and the ruined corpse it seemed to sprout from. A tower was starting to look like a bargain for Leizbauhnor. The thing clacked to mandible which seemed somehow lodged in it's hosts legs, clapping the dead sorceress heels together in a disgusting parody of a dance.

"Uhhh," Emmaline gibbered, now utterly unsure what they had to do. Her little swarm of nails continued to sting at the thing without noticeable effect. Blowing the thing up seemed like the best option, but doing so would probably be lethal for Emmaline and, less importantly, might doom the city if the defenders ran out of powder. Worse still in a few minutes they would be close to the river gate, close enough that blowing the barge might breach the western walls opening the way for the beastmen that doubtlessly lurked for such an opportunity.  The beast reared up and Emmaline lifted her hand, golden light in the shape of Sigmar's hammer blazed forth. The beast flinched back violently as though struck a blow before it realized it was trickery and Emmaline was far too wordly to use faith as a weapon.

"I need a minute!" she shouted to Neil and then bolted below deck as fast as her heaving lungs could carry her.