Emmaline was queasy. She had just killed a half dozen slaves whose only crime was being afraid of their Dark Elven masters. She squeezed her innards into compliance, certain that no sentry would be deceived if a supposed Druchii corsair started puking their guts up. With difficulty she dreged up one of the few lessons Albrecht the Magnificent had ever bothered to teach her. Education hadn't been his priority when it came to his pretty apprentice, but a few things had stuck. She focused on the golden wind, allowing it to blow through her and carry away her anxiety. Idrin grabbed her arm.

"Stop it!" he hissed, "My kind aren't as blind to the flow of magic as yours." Emmaline heroically resisted the urge to elbow him in the pit of the stomach, but she ceased the meditation, her momentary anger having purged her churning guts.

"What is wrong with you," the elf demanded.

"I never killed anyone before," Emmaline replied to the evident confusion of all except Markus. They assumed her to be a seasoned cut throat by association. 

"Keep it together," Markus grunted as they approached the tunnel. It might have started out as a natural cave, but the dark elves had carved pillars out of the living rock. It wasn't pleasant to look at, all sharp eyes and leering faces that reminded Emmaline of the worst clown masks she had seen in Altdorf as a child. Two elves in plate cuirass with skirts of shining mail stood guard. Each wore a tall pointed helmet and carried a long spear with a wickedly convoluted point. Both bore shields marked with the symbol of a sea dragon. It was clear they weren't expecting trouble, both were back inside the cavern to avoid the rain, but as they approached they stepped out to take their places.

"Kalawan indrad us'the?" one of them called to Sulandar who had strode to the head of the group. He called a response in his own language and made a gesture. Emmaline steeped to make sure Morek was between her and the Druchii sentries.

"Ene'we, Ene'we astaralai?" the second sentry asked.

"Farinduril Drakan taris," Sulandar responded. Whatever it was, it was the wrong thing to say. Both elves tensed and began to lift their weapons. Sulandar stepped inside the reach of one of them and stabbed his sword into his opponents neck, using his own bodyweight to drive the Druchii back into the cavern and out of sight. As he passed Sulandar slashed backwards with his sword, intending to decapitate the second elf, but he turned with unbelievable speed and got his shield up. Sulandar's blade bounced from the laqured wood as the Druchii dropped his spear to pull his sword. Morek's ham sized fist caught him in the neck. The elf's helmet whipsawed sideways with an audible crack as the blow propelled him into the tunnel after his fallen comrade. Morek chuckled madly and sucked his fist, which now bled from a pressure cut to the knuckles. They hurriedly moved into the tunnel and paused, waiting for some alarm. There was nothing but the roar of the storm and the illumination of the now spreading flames. Emmaline looked back and saw something large and winged highlighted against the moon. The figure of an elf was bestride what looked like a vast horse with the wingspan of a gryphon. 

"A sorceress," Idrin muttered, though how he could tell sex at this distance Emmaline had no idea. For the moment it seemed she was focused on the fire, though with magical assistance it wouldn't be long before the blaze was damped.

"You had best hope your ship can fly," Idrin muttered to Markus.