"I'm just about..." Emmaline replied, furiously scratching runes and sigils into the deck, she added a final flourish. "Done!" Golden energy lit the runes, pouring out as though lit from golden fires beneath. The tempreature plummeted and the hot dense air of the Druchii's slave pens plunged downwards to fill the gap. The sails luffed and began to fill even as ice crystals began to form around the tafrails. Markus turned to scream orders, but the terrified sailors needed no instructions. They hauled the canvas tight and the Hammer began to move, no faster than a saunter, out towards the main harbor. The dark elves had formed a compact wall of shields and were moving along the quay sheltering from the crossbow bolts and improvised projectiles being hurled by the fleeing pirates. It was a shame that none of the guns would bear on the tight packed formation. Emmaline saw that they were making for a great chain that was sunk beneath the canal, clearly intended to seal the way to the harbor.

Morek evidently saw the problem too. He grabbed a barrel of powder and leaped over the side onto the quay. Howling an oath to Grimnir he charged towards the dark elves. Emmaline saw fire spark on the barrel a few moment before the dwarf charged through the shield wall, earning several cuts as he dove between the spear blades. His meaty shoulder struck where two shields joined and he crashed through in a confusion of flailing arms and legs. The powder keg went up with a concussive boom that rattled Emmaline's teeth. The formation flew appart in a gout of flame and fire, shields and spears flying in all directions. Several limbs and a couple of helms hit the Hammer's deck in a series of thumps. Emmaline balled her fists with the effort of concentrating, keeping the arcane wind blowing as canal behind them froze over.

"In a minute..." she gasped, "we are going to have to deal with that skank of a pony riding sorceress."