For some reason, instead of music, this inevitably produces hellish cacophony. Reed pipes shouldn't even be able to do that. 

Why this!! 

Jay gets his wizard to turn him into a petrel instead of a crow and flies around practicing catching small fish. This is way better than having to be around the not-a-pit-fiend and her alarming prisoner who doesn't seem to be able to sustain a non-bloodthirsty facial expression for longer than three consecutive seconds. 

Eventually, they are nearing the point where they must disembark into a rowboat and sneak up on an island full of hostiles. The scouts had suggested a particular angle of attack, and drawn a map of where to find the two signal towers, and now all that remains is to do the job. 

"So, do I get to help, or what?" wonders Ashoc, bouncing on his toes with anticipation as the rowboat is wrangled into position. 

"I'm not giving you weapons." 

Giggle. 

A wicked black dagger flows out of nothingness into his hands, and he hugs it, two-handed, like it is a bouquet of flowers. "You don't need to give me anything," he lilts. 

Wait, he can conjure weapons and she's not dead yet?? 

Serra shuts her eyes for a moment, reciting a silent prayer to bolster her calm. 

“I don’t suppose you’re ever going to tell me where you’re hiding those.”

"Maaaaaaaybe." 

"Okay, so, this is going to sound ridiculous, but I feel like I really can't in good conscience support you dragging a prisoner into an active combat zone without letting him defend himself," says Laila, who suddenly is way less sure that he's evil. 

Serra, on the other hand, is still definitely sure he's evil. "I will defend him if necessary. It is my job." 

"That seems like a great way to get distracted at an inopportune moment. What's he gonna do, run away? Off an island?" 

The wizard makes an annoyingly good point. 

And he hasn't tried to escape, actually. Not even a little. He just casually produces weapons entirely to punctuate conversational points. 

She frowns at the shackles for a long moment, and pulls out the key - 

- and he grins, says brightly, "no, no, that's all right," and flickers a few feet to the left, letting the shackles clatter loudly to the deck. 

What. 

What? 

What.

"What," says Serra, in a strained tone much like that of an elderly wizard whose apprentice has just brought home a lava elemental as a pet. 

Look, that was one time, and she was six. 

"Welcome to the team?" offers Laila. Now she's sure he doesn't mean them any immediate harm, whether or not he is capital-letter Evil.

"Why, thank you." Bounce, bounce. (Where'd the dagger go? Ashoc isn't telling!) 

Aaaaaa. 

Why! This is a very bad idea! Laila, come on, he's obviously super evil, what the heck. 

 I mean, yeah, but as far as I'm concerned, what matters is what you do, not what shows up when a paladin casts a detection spell on you. 

He murdered somebody! Actually! Recently!! 

Laila doesn't offer a reply, mostly because the actual answer is 'yeah, but it wasn't somebody I knew or have compelling reason to believe didn't deserve it, so I don't super care' and she ... doesn't feel great about that. 

"Okay! Smaller boat time!"