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[Einar Regis]

((If you didn’t want to be off the ship yet just let me know and I’ll happily edit. Ahh, he’s such a dork. XP))

Einar stayed just steps behind Kimi as she led the group out of the depths of the rocking ship. Climbing up the ladder and into the bright light of day was like a blow straight to the face. He stood there, rubbing his eyes and blinking for a few seconds, to clear his adjusting vision. But when it finally cleared, he almost wished that it hadn’t. Again, not a single stirring soul could be seen. He walked around the deck, checking in every crook and cranny. Nothing. He peered down to their port. Still nothing.

Just then, he heard Kimi’s voicing of surprise. Returning back to his companions, he read the obscure, threatening note and saw exactly what all the commotion was about.

Whoever the sick author of the note was either had some real guts or no sensibility. Or both. Einar mentally agreed with Kael’s outburst; it was a sick game to their captors. A game which seemed to be gambling with their lives. His eyes narrowed, angrily, the more he thought about the whole thing. He didn’t appreciate it one bit, that he, or anyone else for that matter, were mere pawns in some type of sadistic game play. After all, it was a situation that they had all been dragged into, unwillingly. Now they were just being toyed with in a round of cat and mouse.

With obvious irritation, he stormed up and ripped the note off of the mast. Spitting disdainfully on the wooden floorboards, he ripped the cursed piece of paper in half, crumbled the pieces and tucked them away into his pocket. “We can all have drinks when this fool is killed. Although, I do agree somewhat with this letter. One of us will be dead, and I do not intend that it will be me."

Einar was half-rambling now, engrossed in a world all his own. Inside, he fought to suppress his rage, knowing full well that it made him a different, unfamiliar person. He just needed a minute to breath. That, and he found no use in just standing there. He didn’t trust the ship one bit.

Stepping with purpose, he walked right onto the gangplank and off the water vessel, not stopping until his feet had touched the port below. Raising both arms into the air, he shouted, “Come out and fight, damn it! Or do you run from your ultimate demise?” Foolish, he knew, and something that made a spectacle of himself. But he was making it clear that he wasn’t going to deal with rubbish like this. Not a chance.

[Kamimilla Akecheta]

She was stunned, was there truely this much evil in the world? It seemed that she was to be hunted by either this person or another for the rest of her life. Although she had many causes too, she had never harmed another human being out of aggression. Yes she had knives and she had learned self defense but they were mostly for show! Kamimilla never once thought that she might actually have to use them... but maybe that was just massive wishful thinking on her part. She might not get away with that this time.

She had slowly sunk down to her knees and covered her face with her delicate hands and tried to calm herself. It may not come down to that, despite the various degrees of fear she heard in her companions voices as they read the note, she knew that every one of them were capable of protecting themselves. There was also a lot of anger in the men's voices and in this situation that was a good thing. It meant -at least she hopped- that they were not beyond taking retribution for the crimes committed against them. She had swore to herself that she would never take another humans life but there where three others who probably hadn't. Yes she could help them hide, find food, and watch their backs. She had another secret as well and hopefully it would be enough so that they would not leave her behind.

Slightly reassured she stood up and gave what hopped to be a good smile toward the street kid, Kael? Yes that was his name, although now that she looked at him, 'kid' was probably not how she should describe him. She knew she was at least twice the age of everybody else but they where all adults by mortal standards. But she smiled again, a little more heartfelt this time. Then she turned towards the Divarak.

"I'm not sure where we are going to find a drink in this place," She began as she watched Einar walk away, "but I'll be glad for one anyway..."

“Come out and fight, damn it! Or do you run from your ultimate demise?” Suddenly yelled Einar as he walked off the plank and onto the docks.

"Noo!" Kamimilla cried as she ran toward the rail, "By the Spirits what were you thinking?! You've started the count down!" Quickly she ran back for her bag and the one Einar left behind and gave shrill whistle, panic welling up inside her. "We have to run now, we've only got two hours now!" She threw the bag at him and angrily dashed toward the shadow of the wall.

[Zaila]

Kael glanced around at his companions, though he used the term lightly; they each seemed to be as worried about the  note as he was. That was good, in a twisted sort of way. At least none of them were taking it lightly, nor did any of them seem naively pleased at the danger and adventure of it all. And, if they were all afraid, that made him fell less of a terrified child. The woman smiled at him. At least, that's what he assumed she was trying to do. It came out as more of a grimace. He didn't smile in return, though he wanted to. She really was pretty. But as soon as she found out that his cloths had practically come this ripped, and the capture hadn't done any more harm to his garment than his day-to-day living would, she would regret the awkward show of comradeship.

“Come out and fight, damn it! Or do you run from your ultimate demise?” howled one of the men. And damned if he didn't look the part of the kidnapped hero, with his rosy brown hair and sunny blue eyes. It was as if he'd stepped out of an old bardstale and into the real world, complete with frightening story line.

"No! By the Spirits what were you thinking?! You've started the count down!" cried the girl. Kael wondered what she meant for half a moment before remembering the precise details of the note. It'd been so long since he'd had to remember his letters, or anything written in them, that even the crippling details of the somewhat-hostage letter didn't stick clearly in his mind. The countdown, he thought, just as the girl said, "We have to run now, we've only got two hours now!"

Kael cried out in a weird mix of anger, fear, and helplessness. Fear was nothing new to him; he'd lived in it for years upon years as an abused beggar and mediocre street performer. Nor was anger. Anger at his father for being so cold, his mother for dying, Allycat for leaving him when he wasn't ready for the streets, the world in general for throwing a pampered little boy onto the streets. But this raw hopelessness was something he hadn't felt since his first nights on the street. This was the feeling of inaction. He was completely out of his depth here, like a wealthy young lord suddenly finding himself homeless on the streets. He didn't have any applicable skills for running from crazed killers, or navigating foreign streets. He could pick a pocket, or fade into a wall. Perhaps he could survive  this, but he did not have a hope of winning the game.

"Son of a copper whore!" Kael cursed, spitting to the side as he followed the girl to the rail. He wasn't exactly cursing at the storybook hero, but he wouldn't waste time worrying if the man interpreted it that way. Idiot, that one was. No real bardstale hero would go running off before making a plan in the safehouse.