Woe looks at the situation for a couple of seconds. She can see that the wife pulling on the man's arm is making things worse.

"Stop, stop immediately what you're doing!!! You're making things worse! Step back!"

The woman is in hysterics. She is not reacting. Woe places both of her hands on the woman's shoulders and forces her to look into her eyes. 

"We'll help your husband. What's your name? And what's your husbands name?" She walks the woman back towards the door. Then shouts out an order to the man who just emptied his stomach contents. Making her voice louder and piercing with prestidigitation. "YOU. Take care of this woman. Make sure she doesn't enter this room again under any circumstances. We'll help her husband as best as we can."

Then she turns to Singe. "You need to help me here. We need to try together to get the man off... and we need to be quick."

Singe nods, his hair is still writhing and the entire scene unnerves him.

Together Woe and Singe manage to pull the man off the bed post. The diplomat still seems to alive, barely.

Singe sighs, "You should probably go talk to her. You're better with words then I am." Singe begins to mutter the death rites to Tymora he learned from his dad.

Woe checks the vital signs on the man. When they lifted him off the post, it felt so easy, they had worked well together. But despite all their efforts, this man lying in front of her, was dead. She didn't have the magic to bring him back to life. 

Slowly Woe got up. The full extent of her exhaustion hit her in the stomach and she almost doubled over. Then she pulled herself together and walked out of the room towards the woman. 

"Mylady, I am so very sorry, but your husband is dead. We did everything we could." Woe waits while the words sink in. She offers the woman some water from her water skin. "I will speak to someone on board to make sure we can transport him to Port Nyanzaru. What is your name and your husband's name? Where are you from?"

Koll surveys the chaos after the ship's big plunge. He sees the others tending to wounded in the immediate area, and thinks of Lera locked in a cell. He rushes past the others, through the bowels of the lurching ship, to the brig to see how the young sorceress fared. 

Woe

The woman falls to her knees and sobs in her hands. After some time the sobs slowly quiet. "Edward," she says. "Edward Thantarth... I am Evelyn." Before she even tells you where she's from, you already know. Both Woe and Singe mouth it as she says it, "From Berdusk." 

Lying East of Baldur's Gate, Berdusk is a haven for a once secret organization, The Harpers. The Thantarth name is known because Belhuar Thantarth was once the master of the Twilight Hall. "I know you did all you could," she says between sobs. "Thank you..." She stands and walks over to Edward, holding him in her arms. 

Koll

You launch yourself up the stairs towards the hatch. Before you even get to it you realize the storm is still raging outside, as the sounds of the ocean waves, rain, and thunder are impossibly loud. You throw open the hatch and are met with a turret of water as the ship smashes through a small wave. The whole starboard side of the officer's and crew deck is missing, you realize, as you are now standing outside as a crewman looks down at you from the main deck of the ship. You hear Lera calling from the cell at the end of the hall, next to a half-crushed kitchen. 

As he makes his way to the end of the hall, Koll yells at the crewman looking down at him. "Get me the keys to open that cell! You're gonna need all hands on deck!"

The ship's violent movement was too much for Lera, so she had abandoned all hope of sleep. The bard's daughter had started to sing softly to herself 99 Casks of Ale on the Wall. The rocking of the ship was significantly harder here than it would have been down below, and her song was interrupted when her stomach had a sudden reversal of fortune. Lera wanted nothing more than to curl up into a tiny ball, but she was forced to remain standing with arms chained above her head. 

Later in the night, the door flies off its hinges and flings down the hall. Water begins pouring into this section of the ship continuously throughout the rest of the night. Cold, shivering, and unable to get a wink of sleep, Lera heard a crack. One of the main masts splinters and snaps right atop of the officer's quarters across from her. She could hear the screams as two crewmen were suddenly trapped below the massive wooden tree-sized pole. It's at that moment that the ship begins to climb. She found herself sliding along the wall, arms still shackled. Using the chains to brace herself, she kept herself in place as the whole ship lurched downward.

And suddenly she was underwater. It happened so quickly, she had barely had time to take a breath. Lera struggled against the shackles that kept her under the water, in one of her dad's stories hadn't the hero broken his hand to escape some manacles? Lera attempted the same maneuver, but her hands caught and she couldn't break free. She was trapped, she was going to drown...

After what felt like an eternity, the ship righted itself and the water receded. The barely conscious Lera was left gasping and coughing, but still very much alive. "Dad!" She creamed, her throat sore from the salt water. She didn't care, she needed her father. "Dad! Please, anyone!"

The crewman gestures to the missing deck and the officer's quarters it once protected. "Umberlee took it!" He calls down. Just as he does, he's distracted by some shouting and he hops over the gap and runs down the deck to help with another issue. Koll sees a rope-leash trailing him. He realizes that if another large wave hits, he may be swept away in the current. 

Zamar and Perrin move to the crewman pinned in the hall. "That plank is going to have to come out," Zamar says. 

"We can use it to splint his arm," Perrin suggests.

"Ok, you pull it out and I'll set the arm. On three. One, two, three!" 

Perrin pulls the plank free and the man screams. Fortunately, Zamar is able to get the arm righted in one quick motion, before the pain can subside. As he is setting the arm, he uses his innate Aasimar healing to stop the blood flow. He tears a few strips of the man's clothing with the aid of his dagger and completes the splint. "Here. Have some water," he says as he and Perrin prop the man against the wall. 

(Aasimar lay on hands: 2 points, Medicine check, Natural 20!)

Realizing that he could be swept away with the ocean storm at any point, Koll harnesses his ki for a burst of speed. He steps with nimble quickness to the end of the wrecked and waterlogged hall to Lera's cell. To his great relief he sees that the door does not even have a lock. But Lera is chained to the wall in manacles. If only he had some thieves' tools! This was a time where he could put them to good use.

"Hi Lera," he says. "We should get you unchained. Let's see if we can pull the chains out of the wall. Together, on the count of three..."

Koll braces his legs against the wall and pulls with all his might.  Lera does her best to help. It is no use, though. The manacles hold fast and Lera's wrists are bloodied and bruised.

Koll tries to use one of his tonfas to twist and pry the chain, but he only ends up snapping it in two.

"Bah!" he says. "Sorry, but I can at least keep you company until more help arrives..."

Singe stands up from Thantarth's body, leaving his wife to grieve in peace. He goes back to the group's cabin. Looking down at his clothes, caked in the diplomat's blood, Singe turns to Shanolia. "Shanolia, I think Lera may need your expertise. I don't think it's safe to be up there right now, we don't want people running around up there." Seeing Polly still clutching Shanolia, "I'll stay here with Polly, you go get Lera out."

Shanolia jumps slightly, startled by Singe's sudden re-entrance. When she listens to his idea, however, she nods quickly, pulling her mask up and covering her face.

"Take care, child. I'll return swiftly." The Elf quickly snatches up her pack and throws it over her shoulder, sprinting out of the room and ascending the stairs. Hurriedly, she looks around, seeing the open doorway to where Lera is being held. With a deep breath, she rushes across the deck, noticing a familiar Monk on the way in, as well as Lera's chained form hanging from the wall."

"The Hothead mentioned you might need a bit of a rescue?" She asks Lera, dangling a set of lockpicks in front of herself.

As quickly as she can, Shanolia sets upon the locks - Koll giving her some tips on the mechanisms of the manacles as she works. With little difficulty, the seasoned thief throws the pin and the first lock clicks as she swiftly moves on to the other, unlocking it just as easily. The Elf pockets the lockpicks as she helps Lera to the ground.

"Miss me?" She teases, cocking her head slightly.

/r 2d20kh1+4 #LockPick = (16+8)+7 = 23
Success

“Koll, break my hands,” Lera said earnestly. “Then I can try and squeeze them out. I tried earlier, but it didn’t work...”

”I'm not going to break your hands unless it's the last ditch. I will go back and ask Shano for tools. Don't go anywhere,” Koll, ever the wordsmith, instructed.

"Thanks, Koll. I was planning on popping off to get some cinnamon rolls, but because you told me to stay, I won't go,” Lera retorted. Even chained to a ship in the middle of the storm, she still found time for sarcasm.

Before Koll could run off, Shanolia appeared like magic from the shadows. “Speak of the gorgeous rogue and she shall appear,” the sorceress grinned despite the pain. Lera leaned heavily on Shanolia, her body aching from the beating she had just took. “I missed you almost as much as you all missed me.”

Shanolia hoists Lera's arm over her shoulder to support her weight.

"Did you call me gorgeous just then?" She asks as they walk back to the cabin, the pride audible in her voice.

"Abso-farjin'-lutely," Lera closed her eyes for a moment, letting some of her healing magics flow through her. It wasn't something she tapped into often, but as a child her cuts and bruises always seemed to have a magical way of fixing themselves. Her wrists remained bloody, but it went a long ways in easing her pain. Despite the fact that she was feeling a little better, she still let Shanolia carry the brunt of her weight.

Shanolia smiles to herself, allowing a quick glance over the Sorcerer's body as they enter the cabin where she sees Polly, sitting as if she'd just been told off. Gently, she sets Lera down on a cot.

"Tend her wounds." She commands Singe, rather than asking, crouching beside the child. "Why are you upset, Plentyn?"