Castisha looks sadly over the ship with the others. As Kierro and Honor speak with her though she moves to them.

"We can hobble along, but we'll have to take some readings to figure out where in the seven hells we are now." She informs the two. "We were blown all over the place in that storm and could be hundreds of leagues off course for all I know."

"We'll get on course soon enough." Palvin assured her, rubbing a hand affectionately down her lean back.

The Dragonlords would feel the pull to the South and West still, though maybe a bit more South than West, letting you know you were probably sent farther West than you would have wished, and maybe even a bit back North.

As the crew, with any aid from dragons and dragonlords that is given, makes repairs, Castisha retires to her cabin to look over maps. She returns a while later with about the same information the dragonlords already knew. The ship was blown East and North in the storm. She suggests to head South, at the best pace the ship can manage, seeking a port that will take multiple days to reach in that direction.

"That sounds like our best course of action," Naivara agrees.

"Indeed." Kierro agrees. "We should all probably help as much as we can, if we're to get the ship back to port in one piece."

During the rest of the journey, Kierro assists the rest of the crew, and prays to his sun-gods Pelor and Lathander for a safe rest of the journey.

Nadariel would try to lift the spirit of the crew and passengers with stories of kingdom’s and wonders Far Far Away, sometimes a small image of a castle, or the smell of summer grass or the sound of birds would accompany his tales making them alive in his audiences mind.

Esmerelda makes small talk with most of the other dragon lords and the crew, being careful not to reveal too much about herself and staying as flirtatious as ever. She also attempts to make nice with the crew and get to know them all a little better as well. If Esmerelda is asked about which direction to travel in, she simply says, "I don't have a strong opinion either way. I was hoping to get to the Sea of Swords as soon as possible, but I understand that we need to repair." If one of the dragon lords is around, she mutters to them under her breath, "Besides it'll extend our honeymoon and give Ronaldo and I, a little more time together."

The next three days sees the ship limping south. The crew works hard to keep the ship on track, with the dragonlords and dragons aiding where and as they can.

On the fourth day a trio of ugly women are spotted a ways off from the ship. They are quickly recognized as Sea Hags, but they do not close in on the ship, seemly recognizing that this ship, though damaged, is not a target they wish to attempt.

That evening a fight is brewing aboard ship. Nadariel, recognizing the rising tenshons, plays music to distract the crew, and barely manages to get the crew to settle down enough. The ones at the center of the near-fight soon are drinking ale from the ship's stores together.

The next morning Latrius senses a dragon. It is not directly along their course, but close enough that he believes the ship could alter its course, and, if the dragon is located on an island, might be a far easier place to reach than the port that is still several days south from here. The dragon he senses is an Incarnum dragon. (I'll post details in the OOC shortly.)

Latrius frowns at his tingling senses, then nods thoughtfully and turns to the rest.

"There’s land near here—close.  I can guide us to it and it’ll only take us slightly of course."

"Sounds like fun!" Esmerelda says with a smile. She glances around at the others, "But you all probably know better than me." With that, she turns and gives a questioning look to the other dragon lords.

"Sounds good," Honor says. She's been helping distract sailors with 'motivational exercises,' which mostly come down to arm wrestling and wrestling on the deck.

Kyrian trains with his blade, interspersed with helping the crew. His mood is usually somber, but sometimes he becomes lively and animated only to remember himself and return to his grim state. 

"That would be good; repairs might be a bit easier once we've landed." Kierro replies, coming back from meditating below deck.

The ship alters its course a bit, and Latrius aids in locking on to the correct heading. Soon he can feel the dragon getting closer as the ship moves towards it. It is still a few hours before an island comes into view ahead of you. This island does not appear on the maps you have of this area of the sea. How do you approach?

Esmerelda will once again defer to the more experienced shipmen on how to properly land (?) the ship. She does pay rapt attention to how it is done though, on the off chance that she would need to do it herself at some point.

“Does anyone of you got a familiar that could scout the area?” Nadariel is asking the other lords.

Latrius shakes his head.

"I don’t.  Leto does, I believe."

(OOC: Is there any reason why any of our dragons wouldn't have transformed? I'm not sure if I can see Emmy not going walkabout if she could.)

(Mine is floating as a cloud above us, because she prefers solitude.)

(Chysen is pretty much always in human form.)

Hearing his name called, Leto looks over from where he’d been thinking to himself. Looking up and to the side, suddenly an imp appears in his vision, making eye contact with it, it changes into the shape of a black raven, flaps a few times to gain height, and then flies towards the island. “We shall know what is there soon enough.”