Standing on the deck of his ship, Oliver watched the Irlen man walk away along the docks, frowning and pulling out his long-seer, ignoring the sounds of talk behind him from the ambassadors and nobles who were milling about.

He had begun to regret hosting a dinner shortly after it had started, finding himself with no recourse but to endure the company on his ship, with no place to flee. The King refused to talk about anything other than idle, non-official topics after dinner despite the political lean of the guests and Oliver was restless from their badgering and flirting.

But it seemed as if there was something entertaining afoot to keep him occupied seeing the dark form of the ambassador's son start running along the harbour. He was just about to raise the magnifier to his eye, when he felt a presence at his side, turning to find the beautiful ambassador to Ecalia.

"What are you looking at?" she purred, grinning to him, her body as close as was reasonably decent in polite society.

Oliver knew she was trying to draw his attention again and hesitated for a moment, debating allowing himself to be pulled into entertaining her with charm and flattery if only to kill the time When the hair on the back of his neck stood up, telling him that whatever was happening should not be ignored, he handed her the farseer, pointing down the harbour to where he could barely see the man running with his own eyes. "Something looks to be happening with the Irlen party. I was just showing gracious concern for our guests."

The woman was silent for a moment as she searched for it, then paused, her movements steady as she watched. "You distrust them, be honest. Oh. There's...Wolfshun is on one of the ships, there's... Some of the Irlen standing, armed and moving about, but there's others that look to be collapsed. No, they're tied up... the others are not trying to help their countrymen either. And there is Nicklus... I wish I could hear what they were saying, he doesn't look happy."

Oliver desperately wanted to see but a sinking suspicion had him feeling that the very neutral Ecalia was the better witness for whatever was going to happen. Instead, he glanced to the ambassadors from a couple of the other countries as the group approached where the two of them were standing.

If Clairval had needed a solid alibi, this was definitely it.

Verana stepped up to the railing on the other side of him, lifting her nose in the air, frowning. "The oil you use in your lamps... the powder you use in your cannons... is there a reason why there would be a lot of it, spilling into the water, open to the air on a ship?"

"They're attacking him! Wolfshun... no, his name is Wolfshen, Wolfshen's men are attacking the ambassador's son, the man only has a small blade... what is going on?"

Shelby had his own device out, frowning and moving to hand it to another of the ambassadors, starting to stride down the deck, calling for his guard.

The second ambassador let out a low sound, though the tone of voice was detached, as if he wasn't speaking about a real human. "He's down, bleeding, unconscious..."

Oliver looked to Verana, narrowing his eyes, as he focused on her questions."They all explode, they're flammable. That ship is doomed."

She looked impassive, turning back to look at the ship. "I smell smoke as well now."

"Verana... those men will die..." Oliver said sharply, drawing a dark look from her, He knew she did not like the men, that she would probably have killed them all herself, but preventable death...

"Now Wolfshen and his men are running off the ship...." The second ambassador continued to narrate what he was seeing.

Verana let out a growl and leapt over the railing, her wings snapping out and taking her to the air above the water. She crossed the distance with only a few beats of her mighty appendages, far quicker than any of them would have been able to run.

Oliver found himself unable to tell what she was doing when she landed on the deck. In those long moments as Shelby's men rushed down the harbour, though they guards were too distant to be of any help, if the oil and powders were exposed to flames. The ambassadors continued to talk in stunned, disembodied voices about whether or not they witnessed a murder.

He needed to know, needed to see what the dark form of his friend was up to, as every second counted between her safety and the explosion he wasn't sure she fully appreciated. Finally, he lost his patience with the others and himself, knowing there was more that they could be doing than standing around waiting for disaster to hit.

"Tell me what she's doing! Please!" Oliver said sharply. "Or give me one of those."

And then he yelled at his men, getting them roused, telling them to put life rafts in the water and assist. Oliver's sailors, only a light crew with the party going on, moved quickly into action, pushing aside the tables and chairs to ready the boats. They didn't hesitate, though Oliver knew that they'd be more likely pulling up bodies than rescuing people if Verana's sense of smell was correct.