Emmaline laid her head against the gunnel of the boat trembling faintly in the aftershocks of her seasickness. She was about as wrung out as she had ever been. The spells she had been working were not complex. Sea serpents were on average about as intelligence as the Altdorf street patrol which ranked them a little above dogs and a little below pigs. Even so, maintaining the illusions had been very draining. She was also trying very hard not to imagine the Hammer being swarmed by the cruel dark elves, its crew being dragged into the bowels of the Black Ark to suffer slavery and worse. More than once she had heard experienced crewman state that it would be better to touch off the powder magazine than submit to the Druckles as they slang termed them.

The land was approaching quickly, the wavelets beginning to toss the boat as the waters shoaled. Emmaline hauled herself up and started to wretch into the gray water. Markus let go of the oars and stood up, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her to her feet.

“No time for that,” Markus snapped, propelling her towards the front of the boat with a shove.

“It’s too rocky to properly land, we will probably…”

There was a sudden crunch and the boat pitched violently as submerged rocks stove in the front timbers. Emmaline squawked in alarm as she pitched violently over the bow and into the frothing waters. She gasped as she hit the surf. It wasn’t the icy kiss of death she expected, but it was cold enough to knock the breath from her. For a miracle she missed the large rocks just beneath the surface. Her natural buoyancy lifted her up and she sucked in a mouthful of salty air. A wave knocked her into a slimy rock and she stroked inexpertly towards the rocky strand. With the drive of the surf and a little luck she managed to wash up on the graveled beach, gasping and shivering.

“Markus!” she called as she forced herself up on her elbows. She needn’t have sounded so worried. The captain was was cutting through the water like a fish, dragging what few supplies he had managed to salvage from the boat, the wreckage of which was currently being dashed to splinters on the rocks.

“Ranald’s balls,” she moaned and flopped back onto her back, staring up at the gray and threatening sky.