The Oinishman grins wide at Gerhard's words, a wild look in his eyes. Behind them, Mi'il keeps an eye on the proceedings. They are below deck, where the fevered, stranded manling has been locked inside a cabin.
Meanwhile, the ship begins to sail again, guided by the night stars and new winds. Captain Sharlto, busy navigating Fate's Plight (so close to the City of Sails now!), leaves the Oinishman's fate to Gerhard. "Do with the madman what you will" he says and continues to shout commands to Werrus and Ebrin.
Old Blind Bhroo approaches Gilson Chrom. "Cook, my bats have not yet returned." he says ominously.
The Oinishman bites down hard on his own fingers and begins to etch something in the wooden wall with his blood, still grinning. It is some kind of amorphous shape with strands and tentacles emerging from a bulbous oval. He pauses to smell his own bloody hand, "Do you smell the sweet tang?" he offers it to Gerhard.
Finally he addresses Gerhard's direct query...
"Do next?" This sets the Oinishman to laugh maniacally, "I await HIS words. The Whisperer of Impossible Secrets will guide us all! My salvation will soon be at hand. We merely wait, pale one." He stares directly into Gerhard's ice-blue eyes, "It wont be long now."
With that, Zylonion, who is also listening to the delusional man, knows what entity the Oinishman refers to. The worst one, when one sails upon the queer seas.
Gilson just then notices something, still several hundred yards from the ship. Dark, winged, Eldritch S hadows in the night sky. He counts the shapes. Eight. As many as Old Bhroo had bats. But despite their leathery wings, these creatures that silently approach the ship from the skies, are no bats. Rather they are each twice the size of a man.
A sailor in the crow's nest suddenly begins to shout, "DEMONS!!"