The water hitting the pavement in a rush of diminutive waterfalls splattered loudly behind them as they entered the strange, roofed quay under the rock. To their right was the docks and ships floating in sloshing water, and to their left was the cavern and waves that stretched into the darkness. Markus had only heard a few tales of the Drucchi, but from everything he had heard and seen, he was intimidated by the prospect of what might be lurking under these controlled waters. He had no way to ascertain on if they kept their sea drakes in the same cavern as they did their moored ships. 

There were only muted lights within the cavernous dockyard, the elves needing only a paltry amount of illumination to work by and the lightning that flashes every few moments sent the silhouettes fleeing to reveal real shapes of statues and carvings in the stone. Markus followed a mere step behind the elves, all three moving with purpose as Emmaline and Morek tramped behind them. 

"Were either of you ever here before?" Markus asked the two Ulthuanites, who glanced his way. 

"No, we never had the privilege." One said sardonically. In the gloom, Markus guessed it was Indrin. "We were captured on a raid in the north and were transported to a Black Ark. It was our luck the Ark had an overabundance of slaves and we were transfered to come here and work the mines. I suppose either way, we found our paths here." 

The captain's eyes caught a stairway a hundred paces to the front on the right wall, leading into the stone where he couldn't determine. To its left, a few slaves worked the docks by pulling aloft mooring lines and carrying crates to designated areas. If he dared to hazard a guess, there were two drucchi present overseeing the distribution of what little they had to work on during the storm.

"Then we don't know where any of these exits lead. Great."

The Hammer's prow loomed taller than the sloops of the drucchi, and the only other non-elven ship looked to be a strange seafaring vessel with three square sails and a box-like shape. Markus couldn't fathom how that thing might move in the water, but it wasn't his ship. As they approached The Hammer, the ships gangway was still out which was a blessing. A poor, pathetic slave with no fat on his miserable body was walking down from it onto the dock. The lacerations on the man's skin looked to be where they had drained out the fat, Markus thought morbidly. Likely that hadn't happened but it was hard to look at. 

He took the lead ahead of the elves, stepping up and making it onto the deck, followed by the others. The familiarity hit him, and he began to feel confident again. Even if they didn't escape, being on his own ship was a boost of morale. 

"What if the crew isn't on board?" Emmaline whispered. 

"Then I'll kill every dark elf in this place." Markus said in a curse, and as unlikely as that was, at that moment he meant every word.