From atop Latham's shoulder, Nuraku peered down upon the group with haughty suspicion. To her, none save Haldir looked to be worth their salt in a scuffle upon the seas. Little black and beady eyes narrowed. "I have heard few tales of the gods where they were the patient, conniving sort willing or wise enough to listen to the reason of a mortal. I pray that you are correct, for I am sure we do not have the firepower to convince Lotheric of our intentions otherwise."
Nuraku looked to Julian. "Provided the Vethcairn do not sink our ship, first. Much falls upon your shoulders, Julian," she said in response to Latham's speech. Listening to the captain begin to speak in another language she was familiar with, but not privy to, Nuraku wondered why she had never learned Silvain.
I was too naive, then, to understand the importance of other tongues than my own. Even Common was a struggle.
And then, the Fae man from before approached, speaking of Taelian's madness -- first in Common -- and then, spouting in Eldhan. He could recognize the language, and could even understand much of it; it was the sister-language to Silvain, after all, its old progenitor. Many of the words coexisted, only with small divergences that kept them apart. She only understood the most common words--those of the Elven Gods, and of the Sil'norai themselves.
Then, Latham began to glow. Nuraku's little paws tensed upon his shoulders, watching those bands of light. "What Rune is this?" she muttered, for Latham had not shared with the group what he was in the common tongue.
Then, the Fae'norai laughed. His haughty, arrogant words raked across her ears, but she learned much from them. "A--A Draedan?" Nuraku said with a worried gasp. Her body clung low to him, fur standing on end. It was hard to hide her fear, but she collected herself just as quickly, sighing away the tension and the panic. What was she afraid for? Latham had meant her no harm, and had clearly been a member of the Remedy in his past life. "I do not know what the son of a god is to Lotheric, but I pray it is enough." She watched Khaori storming off, as if to lend credence to her next words, uttered in a. "We should be careful to council that one, so that they do not provoke Lotheric with their arrogance."
What Latham explained about the Remedy being on its back foot made sense to her. For all their clout and flame, the Huntsmen were a force that required entire legions of Ebon Knights and their Clerics to dispatch. What's more, Sil-Elaine could grow its numbers so much easier. Curses could be thrown about without the need for nurture. The recruitment and training of a Knight was a long and arduous process, often ending in tragedy long before earning that special armor and enough Pyromancy to wreak havoc upon the enemy lines. "I am starting to see what you see, Latham. We may have just enough too convince them, but it is still a small chance to me--if it means we can turn the tide of this bloody war, then you have my loyalty at your disposal. I only pray that you can get through to him if he is consumed by madness."
The man turned, and beckoned for everyone to follow him as he moved through the rusted corridors of the outpost, through strange hallways of metal and broken old wires; the lost technologies of old, ones that made little sense to them now. After only a few minutes journey through the considerably warm corridors, they would find their way to the harbor, largely covered by a metal roofing that stretched out across the thin gap of river, one of many from the Amoras' length. It effectively encapsulated the dockyard within a metal dome, only allowing an operable gate through which the ships could move through if it was allowed to open. It protected the water and the ships from Daravin's corrupted dust storms, though in its effect, it offered them a strange and majestic view of old technological marvel.
As they moved through the docks, Nuraku peered at all of the old technologies, eyes following the strands of cable and rusted devices. There was a time when such things interested her, but she could not find apprenticeship in Etherforging nor Artifice, for she was just an orphan with a harsh tongue and a penchant for lashing out in a land where Kinship was everything. "Maybe one day I will retire and study these marvels with the Gnomes. I'm certainly small enough to fit in their workshops, now."
The corruption was Nuraku's main concern. Her mind was already wondering at how she could escape should the ship fall. Flying looked to be her best option, if the water really was tainted, but even then, she could not fly in a storm, nor could she fly for long before tiring. The form of a fish would have helped, but there wasn't the time. At least the ship would shield them, for the most part. If anything went wrong, she was doomed.
"Ermine," Nuraku corrected. She was fine with being called a weasel or a ferret, but a rat had certain connotations she wished to avoid. "I can also fly, and my Caru can do the same to their ships," she said. "In addition to my Summoning and Animus, I am a Pyromancer and a novice Transpositionist. A window into the water should help us see what lurks in the depths, if nothing else. I also have the ability to make illusions, but they are draining and flawed--small ones are preferred, from trinkets to maybe the shadow of a second ship in the fog at most to make us seem more threatening or confuse a barrage. My Shrivenflame and Caru are my most dangerous weapons." It seemed prudent to share what she could do, for strategy.
Nuraku nodded, feeding the hot knife to her teeth and climbing down Latham's shoulder and scampering off towards the ship. Racing up the plank, she scrambled up onto the railing and hippety-hopped towards the bow, where she perched halfway up the long and narrow point.
I should test this...
Tapping into her rune, Alphonse identified a point beneath the still, murky waters, as deep as her conscious would allow. With an arduous, careful strain, she made her nodes beneath the water. It wasn't exact, but then she didn't need to be for this. Next, she placed another set of nodes in front of her, subsequently working to form a stream of energy between them and setting up her anchors. Nuraku focused on swiftly collapsing the stream of energy within her mind. It was getting easier, but she still felt the stress upon her mind and body as she punctured a hole in space, forming a Window into the inky, dark depths.
As they were within a dreary dome structure, there wasn't enough light to penetrate the depths. Instead, she held her hot knife to the surface of the portal, allowing her to shed light upon the gross, muddy depths. "It won't be so useful at night," she muttered. During the day at sea, this would prove useful. She could only hold the strain for so long before she let the portal collapse with a shudder, the gate blipping out of existence.
Turning tail, Nuraku hopped down and scrambled to join the rest of the crew in their departure preparations.