Souls for Smuggler's Shiv

Sargava is a land on the verge, simultaneously pushing on the edge of the map of the Inner Sea and facing an uncertain political future. The nigh impassable jungles of the Mwangi Expanse and the permanent hurricane known as the Eye of Abendego isolate Sargava from the rest of Garund, and its closest neighbors are only nominally nations themselves. The former Chelish colony also stands at the threshold of a new future free from colonial rule, making all things possible. Yet the citizens of Sargava were not the first to attempt to carve civilization out of the wild region—since the dawn of history, humanity has strived to form great kingdoms amid the dangers of the Mwangi Expanse. Crumbled ruins are all that remain of these vanished empires, and even their names have been forgotten by history. Some scholars even whisper that lost ruins of the ancient Azlanti empire may be found in the unexplored jungles, but these crackpot theories are dismissed by more reputable sages. But whatever their origins, these ruins may provide incredible wealth and power to those who rediscover them.

It is in this harsh and unpredictable setting that our adventure begins.

The Sargavan merchant vessel Jenivere is one of many that make the yearly voyage along the western coasts of Avistan and northern Garund.  Its trade route runs from the Sargavan capital city of Eleder all the way up to Magnimar and Varisia, and then back south again.  The trip is 3,400 miles long and takes just over a hundred days one way.  Yet despite its length and sometimes dangerous peril, it is also a trip filled with opportunity for profit.  The Jenivere’s ports of call include (from north to south) Magnimar, Kintargo, Pezzack, Corentyn, Ilizmagorti, Ollo, Quent, Port Peril, Bloodcove, Senghor, and finally Eleder--It is from these cities that our unsuspecting adventurers each boarded the ship.

The voyage had reached day 71 out of an estimated 104 day journey from Magnimar in Varisia to Eleder in Sargava, and overall… It hadn’t been that bad.  The weather, beyond a rough patch that was expected every now and then, was overall good, the ship’s crew were quite an enjoyable lot, and the other passengers and people of note aboard the Jenivere you had grown somewhat familiar with.

Lets see… There’s...

Captain Alizandru Kovack, a Chelish man whose family has made the Magnimar to Eleder run for generations upon generations, or so you’ve overheard at dinner one too many nights.  Captain Kovack is pleasant enough with his passengers, but a strict disciplinarian when dealing with his crew.  

Alton Devers, the Jenivere’s first mate, is friendly with both passengers and crew, but sometimes seems to chafe under the strong discipline of Captain Kovack.

Aerys Mavato, a trim Half-Elf woman with short dark hair, tanned skin, and fierce blue eyes.  Having boarded in Port Peril, you heard she had immediately gotten into a scrape with a crude sailor.  Throughout the entire trip, she spends most of her time in her bunk, seeming to purposefully avoid fraternizing with the ship ‘s other passengers.  Or maybe it’s just you.

Gelik Aberwhinge, a sharply dressed Gnome from Magnimar, who spends much of his time writing in the ships common areas.  He takes every opportunity to tell long-winded stories, boast of past journeys, and pretty much quip about anything in his field of view, you’ve surmised.

Ieana, a bookish Varisian scholar who tends to keep to herself, she is traveling to Sargava to explore the ancient ruins there.  Rumors about the ship’s crew and passengers you have heard alternately suggest that she’s the Jenivere’s owner, a Chelish agent, or Captain Kovack’s secret lover.  Ieana keeps mostly to herself, and grows more intent on her studies with each mile the ship travels closer to Eleder.

Ishirou, a scruffy human of Tian (read: Asian) heritage, who boarded at Bloodcove and waits to reach Sargava with a quiet eagerness.  Aloof but not rude, he gives the impression of one who has had a hard life but finds himself currently without direction.  Sounds deep, huh?

Jask Derindi, a passenger who was but once been seen by boarding.  He’s a prisoner, or so you’ve learned, who loaded aboard in Corentyn.  Captain Kovack sees to this taciturn human's needs with curt courtesy, but has otherwise insisted that he be left alone, sequestered in the ship’s brig.

Rambar Terillo, a taciturn man from Senghor and the Ship’s Cook--Cook Terillo--who has served in the capacity aboard several ships.  Though unfortunately, you have learned through personal experience, apparently not on account of his culinary skills which seem to be limited to watery soups.

Sasha Nevah, a red-haired human who boarded the Jenivere in Ilizmagorti.  Since leaving Mediogalti Island, the woman’s somber demeanor has gradually faded, revealing a boisterous and optimistic personality.  You personally have taken note that she is missing her left pinky finger, but have otherwise not mentioned your fascinating discovery.  At least not to her.

Of course, there are others passengers who boarded in their respective ports…  But in due time we will learn more about them.

...

The sun was just beginning to dip behind the horizon when the loud clanging of the dinner bell rang out to be heard anywhere onboard the ship.  Even the seagulls that lazily glided on the ocean breeze currents near the sails of the Jenivere were familiar with the metallic tune that played out, and cried their delight in the promise of leftovers being chucked overboard later.  Rumors spread like wildfire throughout the ship that Cook Terillo finally discovered the salt and seasoning rack in the kitchen, and that tonight’s dinner--unlike every other bland night thus far--would be a tasty treat.

With the savory aroma of something delicious drifting out of the mess hall, further encouraged by that loud bell, it would only be a matter of time before everyone made their eventual show for the promise of a good meal to warm and fill the belly.

The ship rocked, a slave to the tide's poundings against its weather-worn wood. It rose to soaring heights, and crashed to the lowest depressions in the ever-toiling sea.

  Tavish heaved into a bucket for the fourteenth time that day. There wasn't anything left in his stomach to heave up, and it was an experience he was, regrettably, getting used to. 71 days, he remained mostly in his cabin, asleep, or sorely wishing he was. When he ate, it was sparsely, and whatever wouldn't spoil he would keep in his cabin for when the sea was calm, and he could keep food in his belly for longer than an hour.

  Few dwarves braved the sea, and fewer Sigilites have seen pools of water as large as Golarion's vast oceans, with the so-called 'Centre of the Multiverse' being suspended miles above the vast wastes of the Outlands. His destination lay with a man in Varisia, to deliver a letter. He was left with a sum of coin to cover a Gatecrasher's fee, and the name of an inn. Covetous as Tavish is, he sought to pocket some extra jink and paid for their services on the cheap - a mistake that saw him in the total opposite direct in Cheliax.

  With nary more than his personal effects, a sealed letter, and a kick to his pride, he bargained, bludgeoned and berated his way into a set of direction that would see him to his destination. First was Port Pezzack, where he paid for his passage in coins of rusted, green copper and murky, golden toruses.


  He heaved again for the fifteenth time this day, muscles aching from their previous efforts to produce results. He initially ignored the summons for dinner, but when that heavenly scent crept its way through the aged planks of his cabin, the nauseous dance in the pit of his belly stopped. It was replaced by a burning need to fill his belly, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Sitting away from his bucket, he took a moment to clean himself in the basin of stale salt water that lay in the corner of his cabin, and donned a pair of plain, brown britches and a sack-cloth shirt, his favoured belt around his waist, and a dagger wedged into his filthy boots. He emerged with a proper dwarven hunger.

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Elsewhere, an uncharacteristic smile crept over Mr. Miyagi Ishirou's face, clasping a hand over the handle of katana, he joined the others in the mess, and sat in a lonely seat, facing the wall.

Days aboard a gently rocking ship had not sat well with the inquisitor. At least in the beginning. He set about attuning himself to the motions of the creaking wood with his usual determination, not one to be overcome by a mere boat! Over time the queasiness subsided and even walking became easy once he gained his sea legs.

This was not Huon's first time aboard a ship and would not likely be his last. The life of an adventurer would simply not allow him the luxuries of routine, and to get around this vast world he'd have to travel by sea every so often. It was a price he was willing to pay, however.

Unlike the rest of his fellow travelers, the young man was a common sight on the main deck. He frequently caroused with the other passengers, lead them through drinking songs, and had taken more than one of the ship's fine female voyagers to his cabin for the night. Huon was, after all, a devout servant of Cayden Cailean, and Cayden Cailean's work was never done.

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When the bell tolled to signal the start of the evening meal, he was one of the first few through the door. With a full flagon of mead in hand, he offered to lead those present in a short prayer of thanks to the Lucky Drunk. Though, as per usual, the 'prayer' came in the form of a bawdy bar song about a young lass from Drenchport who could do things with her one good arm that would make you forget about the growth on her neck.

When the song finished, he quickly took a seat at the center table, chatting and sharing tales with some of the more outspoken passengers. Bouts of laughter were not uncommon, and no one's flagon stayed empty for long.

---------------------

Across the table, Gelik had been spinning one of his many jokes, this particular quip ended with a punchline of "...and the bartender says 'rectum? Damn near killed em!'" Which brought about a hoot of laughter from his comrades.

Why. Why was he here again? The slightly drunken man would now know why, some had advised him not to drink and ship, when it was his very first time. He had been on a boat when he was very small, but since then had never came across a reason to set sail once more. Until now that is. At first he thought it would be a short lived thing, that a little bit of booze would help take away his urge of feeling sick. Oh. . .oh how wrong he was. Stumbling about like a damn fool, the blonde haired man was trying to make sure he didn't fall, though at the same time felt laying on the deck would do him more good than standing up was doing him.

He was a bit of a social man, what with never being able to speak with many back when he split wood for a living, but with the rocking of the boat, he was forced to face the fact he was a lil' $%^&* when it came to riding a boat. Maybe over time it would work out, but at the moment, he was at the mercy of the rocking wooden cage he was within.

As the bell rang for food, the man would slowly make his way to where the others were sitting to soon feast, take up a spot that was as close to the door as he could. Reasons? So he could quickly run out and let go of what laid in his stomach, should the rocking get any more wicked of course!

The Bloodcove port off of the Mwangi expanse was one of the final stops for the Jenivere in its 104 day journey.  This particular port was unique in appearance, as the entire city was built into and around the roots and trunk of one of the gargantuan mangrove trees that are found only along the coast of the Mwangi expanse. The whole city is perched atop boardwalks and scaffolding that keeps it out of the red waters of the Fever Sea and Vanji River below.

It was from this small city that Kida and her sister Kyra purchased their tickets aboard the [i]Jenivere[/].  Near identical in appearance and garbed in exotic robes traditionally worn by monks, the two Half-Elves were the least seen around deck of all the paying passengers aboard the ship.  Certainly they made their appearance from time to time--and always together, mind you--but for the most part the two kept to themselves and stayed within their cabin.  Behind closed doors however, something eerie was going on.

Kida had only been aboard the ship just over 38 days, yet each had been the worst and longest yet since the start of their journey, months ago.  If only seasickness were all it was.  What once were whispers that were barely heard by the Half-Elf over the everyday hum and buzz of life had since intensified to the point of large scale visions and hallucinations over the course of a few weeks aboard the ship.  Her mood swings because of this were nothing short of erratic.  Were it not for the physical changes that accompanied these bizarre mental happenings Kida was going through, any would have safely assumed she had simply gone mad.

Just yesterday, for example, Kida found herself staring at an empty wall of their cabin for four straight hours with a look of sheer terrified horror on her face and few words to explain what tragedy she was witnessing.  This was followed by equal time of uncontrollable sobbing and pleading to the voices she always heard in her head until eventually passing out from exhaustion.  The entire experience was emotionally draining, but it also left Kida with yet another streak of white in her naturally dark brown hair.  Also, coincidence or not, the cries of a large bird just outside the cabin window were sounds even Kyra could hear this time when Kida finally passed out.

When the dinner bell rang out to announce the meal was being served in the mess hall, Kida finally woke from her slumber to the aroma that was bringing everyone out of their cabins to eat.  Sitting up from the bed while rubbing the side of her head, she took note of the new streak of white in her long hair and frowned dejectedly.  

“I look like a crazy person.”  She said to Kyra with a quirky tone and half-smile before reaching for her nearby shawl.  Wrapping her shoulders and head to hide her mismatched mane of brown and white hair, Kida stood from the bed to better gaze outside the small circular window, as if looking for something.  Seeming to realize her actions shortly after, she turned to face Kyra to offer a reassuring smile.  

“I’m.. Sorry.  Yesterday was… Well, lets not talk about it.” She never liked to talk about it.  “Just know that I feel much better.”  Raising both hands to hold her stomach, a faint grin tugged at her lips.  “I could go for some food though, tasteless soup or not.  I can’t remember the last time I had something to eat, and whatever I smell is making my stomach growl.”

Waiting for Kyra to take the lead after their exchange, the twins left their cabin at the same time as Aerys was leaving hers.  Dressed in tight fitting armor and donning a tricorn hat, a mere nod from the trim, athletic and black haired half-Elf was shared between the sisters before she turned on the heel of her black leather boot and walked off at a brisk pace towards the galley.

Following up behind Aerys, Kida and Kyra, being late as they were with gathering in the mess hall, took up a half full table with a few members of the crew and one drunk near the door to await the food that was being passed out from the kitchen.  First come first served as it were however, and at long last of avoiding small-talk and conversation the best they could, steaming bowls of seasoned chowder coupled with what looked to be fresh flat bread fried in oil were brought to the table.  Cook Terillo really outdid himself this night.  Who knew what a little seasoning salt and cooking essentials like oil could do to a meal?  One thing’s for certain… This dish would go down smoothly, regardless of how upset one’s stomach could be.

Tavish saddled on a bench somewhere on one of the side tables, more in the centre where he could get a wide, open view, often turning a suspicious eye to whoever struck too close. When it came time to chow, he made damned sure he was first to score a bowl of whatever deliciousness came wafting from the kitchen. That bowl had barely made its way back to his table before the gluttenous dwarf had bellied it and was awaiting seconds.

  It was that immediate satisfaction that pulled some of the green from his pale skin and put a little more fire into his eyes. The second bowl was eaten a bit more slowly, once everyone else had their share and the rest was offered up, and with so many gathered here, he took stock of those he shared the voyage with.

 He hadn't been entirely idle during the entirety of the trip, he would often slip about the vessel when he wasn't heaving or sleeping and turned a prying ear on people's conversations through doors or walls. Trying to draw conclusions from the scraps he'd overheard. During this time, he'd grown confident that he had this lot pretty figured out. Maybe he could have some fun after all.

 He stood, his belly full of chowder and his confidence restored, producing a deck of playing cards from his back, he purposefully gave the half-elf sisters a wide berth on his path towards the gnome. It wasn't hard to goad the diminutive man into a game of Dwarvish Battle-Poker, Gelik had loudly bragged on several of his occasions of his skills with a deck of cards, so when the Dwarf challenged his honour, he was practically obligated to accept.

 So it was that the pair chose the center of the room as the stage of their game, and the growing frenzy of curses and victorious cries became difficult to ignore. It began to draw an audience from some of the other passengers, a few of whom began to join in on the fun.

Gelik stared into his cards. Lower lip quivering in concentration, he lifted his gaze to his dwarven opponent.

"I raise, sir! Now will you match me or are you too much a bearded coward?"

Hey, it was Dwarven BATTLE Poker after all. Insults were all part of the process. That and random matches of strength... and the occasional drinking contest.


Never one to be left out of a good game, Huon made his way over to the pair and joined the small crowd that gathered. He spent a good few minutes in silence, studying gnome and dwarf as they exchanged verbal blows and raised the stakes with an ever increasing amount of coppers.

A loud clink of metal filled the air as the inquisitor dropped a bag of coin onto the table and took a seat between the two.

"I'm buying in, you liverless dogs."

Oh yes, the spirit of dwarven battle poker was strong indeed.

As the sisters boarded, Kyra would split from her sister's side to step along the railing and keep watch of those who came and left the ship. She would not have left her sister alone for long. Just long enough to study each of the passengers from under her dark hood. After the last crew member jumped aboard and they started to pull from the dock, Kyra would then join her sister in their cabin for what would seem like far longer than 38 days.

That night, Kyra watched as her sister had her episode. Her golden eyes only taking one or two glances at the bland wall her sister stared at. When her sister finally fell silent and to sleep.. Kyra would watch as the lock of dark brown hair slowly faded to white. So focused was Kyra in watching the physical changes. How strange it was to be watching a mirror of one's self turn into something new. What was worse.. watching her sister battle against the demons in her head, unable to do anything about it. When Sybilla woke, this startled Kyra out of her trance and deep thoughts. As her sister sat up and spoke, the golden gaze flitted to the cabin wall, curious of what bird that might have been. A dead one if they weren't close enough to shore. Her gaze met back with Sybilla.

"Depends upon what a sane person looks like. By your account.. I would be that appearance?" She jests in her smokey tone. An attempt to keep her sister's spirit from dark thoughts. When Sybilla chose not to speak of her ordeal, Kyra simply nodded. Kyra already had a clue... Twins often shared that ability.

As Sybilla got ready to head to the mess hall, Kyra took a moment to look at her meager amount of belongings. A dagger, some scrolls, some herb pouches and a cloak. She chose to grab one of the herb pouches and her cloak. Her sister might look a tad shady hiding her hair.. But Kyra would not let her go alone in that look. Hiding her scarred half shaved head under the cloak along with her ears. If any guessed she was half-elf, was only because of her facial features.

Kyra lead the way from the cabin, the scent of food guiding her more than her eyes. Once there she would take a seat closest to her sister but mostly facing from her. Her eyes scanning the room and looking at the drastic changes in the passengers after a rough voyage. Most of them looked to be ill, but glad to fill the tank for another go. Some had lost weight and color. Other's simply seemed less friendly looking than before.

Pulling out the small herb pouch, she fingered out a shaved ginger root and placed it into her mouth before offering the same to her sister. "In case the waters get to us both." She said. It was a rare occurrence that Kyra ever had any other expression upon her face other than a calm seriousness. This was that rare event. She offered her sister a soft grin before she dug into the flat bread. Tearing it in half and barely nibbling upon it as she continued to watch the room.
Not that Kyra needed the root to avoid getting sick. Her balance and training was enough to develope 'sea legs' once she stepped onto the ship. Her meditations also kept her mind busy so that she would not focus to much upon the lulling back and forth of the ship on the waves.

Gradually the mess hall filled to near capacity as everyone, crew members and passengers alike, made their way to give Cook Terillo’s kitchen revelation a try.  In short, it was a culinary success!  Never have the Cook’s meals had so much zest and flavor!  Even the lightly toasted flatbread, as simple of a recipe as that was, proved to be mildly addictive due to the exotic oil used to cook it in.  Paired with a mug of ale, and this meal quite arguably turned into the best one yet in all 71 days the Jenivere had been out to sea.  Then again, in comparison to the bland stews Cook Terillo had been serving up until now, it really didn’t take much.

As the meal slowly stretched on into the evening with all getting their fair share of second and third helpings, the crew members and early eaters eventually took their leave in order to attend to whatever chores they still had to complete before the day’s end.  Were the last dying rays of sunlight that poured in through the portholes not enough encouragement, Captain Kovack’s appearance in the mess hall did the trick with getting the other sailors and crew mates in gear.  With a few sharp curses and barked orders, the galley was left with a dozen sailors who had actually accomplished their day's duties, the most lively game of Dwarven poker that had ever been played on the Jenivere, and a few of the paying passengers who hadn’t slipped out.

Cook Terillo, who had otherwise been busy personally seeing to the delivery of his savory meal to every passenger and crew mate on the ship, made his final appearance from the kitchen looking as if he wanted to speak aloud.  Whatever the round, greasy Senghor man was about to say however, would forever be lost in the blanket of drowsiness that suddenly blurred the vision, clouded the senses, and lulled the mind and body off into an incredibly deep and dark slumber.

...

For what seems like eternity, everything is dark and silent.  Then, sensation slowly begins to creep back in--the feel of sand below ones sprawled out heavy body, and something cold and wet lapping at the feet.  The sound of ocean waves washing against a beach is added to this pallet of sensations, followed by a heavy pressure over the legs.  Then suddenly, for Tavish, Kida and Laxus, a searing pain in one foot.

Forced into consciousness first due to the rush of pain, a wash of nausea and disorientation quickly floods the head of everyone who eventually wakes.  For the three expertly woken from their deep slumber, this feeling of sickness is immediately combined with the turmoil of appearing on a tropical beach, and the effects of exposure to the elements for who knows how long.  Of course, the several tan tide-pool denizens that look like a cross between a lobster and scorpion who appear to be trying to eat them really didn’t help matters much.  No, not at all.

Seconds spared to quickly scan the immediate surroundings would reveal other bodies sprawled out across the beach, and perhaps 10 or so feet further, a haphazardly stacked pile of what looked to be gear, weapons, and Gods only know what else could be seen.  It was also at this unfortunate moment, perhaps spurred by the sight of the weapons yonder, each would discover themselves unarmed but otherwise still geared as they were when on the ship.

Stage.  Set.  Action.

*Weapons Not Included:

Tavish awoke with a snort, violently ejecting a slew of sand from his nostrils. The sun stung at his eyes, and the soft sand pinched his feet. Then hissed. Then, a dawning realization came over the dwarf - sand doesn't hiss. With some renewed clarity to his vision an image came to him, he saw four armoured legs of a stunning shade of ochre, attached to a rather girthy, armoured body. The dwarf became animate.

  The initial panicked flail that issued from its meal had surprised the simple-minded beast, who quickly came to realize that its meal was moving away from underneath it. On its eight legs it scuttled to face its meal, who was now very much active and flailing.

Tavish went for his dagger, only to find it missing. Two things became aware to him at this moment, first was that pile of miscellany off to the side, the second was the charging form of the Ochre "Sea Scorpion". In response, the stout rogue launched a haphazard kick in an attempt to fend it off, and landed the sole of his boot squarely into one of its' segmented eyes, sending it reeling in pain. He had bought enough time to scamper to his feet and begin hauling ass towards the pile of weapons off to the side. It was this moment that he also gave the courtesy to bellow out a warning to his fellow passengers.

"SODDING BUUUUUUUGS!"

Yelping a bit in surprise and pain, Laxus would be quick to rise when feeling pain seep into his foot. As he came about, it'd be a few moment before he noticed he was no longer on a ship. The swaying feeling was gone, but oh how he wished he was still on it. Time was not on his side, nor were the fates it seemed, as he only had a few moments to spare before having to figure out what was going to happen. He didn't know why he was on land. He didn't know why there was some form of watery beasts growing closer, seeming eager to make quick work of him and the others. All he knew, was that he had better get his ass in gear, and live long enough to wonder just what the $%^* was going on.

Stumbling up and away from the beasts, the blonde haired man would take a gasp of air, before making a rocky start towards the pile of weapons. He knew well enough anything that large was to be fended off with a weapon; not his fists. That and their tails looked like they would have some reach on him anyways. Stumbling towards the pile, but picking up speed as he felt his blood rushing, the ex-lumberjack would dive towards the pile when getting close enough to do so. His axe. A sword. Shield. Hell, even a wooden plank that was long enough would do! He didn't have a chance to be picky with whatever his hand came into contact with, as he'd whip the weapon of choice around with him in turn, ready to face down the sea buggers.

Sadly. . .it was not his axe. Nor was it a sword.

It was a $%^&ing freaking ladle. A long looking one thankfully, but still a goddamn ladle! Glancing down at it, to the creatures, back down to it, then towards the creatures again. . .he'd assume the dumbest looking sword fighting stance in the world, waving about his new-found item in an attempt to maybe cause the creatures to think twice, before wanting to tussle with him.

Like that would work, pfffft. He'd have one thing on him though, that he felt he had above all others. It was the trait all lumberjacks had, that helped to ensure none of them hit each other with their falling trees while on the job. Taking a deeeeeep breath, the man would hold it for a moment. . .before letting out the loudest shout he had done yet, that would maybe be heard up and down the entire coast.

"WOULD'JA LOT GIT UP, AS WE GOT OURSELVES SUM COMPANY!"

With the sun rising slowly into a vast sky of yellow, orange and blue, Kida slowly faded into consciousness when the sunlight touched her face.  The feeling of sand below her lithe body, the waves licking at her heels and the warm ocean breeze brushing against her skin felt so surreal.  Too quickly would the Half-Elf have passed it all off as another vision were it not for the jolt of pain that suddenly ran up her leg.  Sitting up instantly caused her head to spin something fierce, followed quickly by the onslaught of all the ailments that messed her head up more than it usually was.  

There wasn’t time to wallow in the pain and confusion that plagued her however.  Having sat up, Kida could quite easily see the sea scorpion that had pinched her leg and drawn blood.  With that scent in the air, the aggressive sea crustacean flayed it’s large claws to attack again.

“N-no, NO!”  Kida screamed and kicked back in the sand, though her cracked and parched voice likely kept many from hearing her initial cries.  Narrowly avoiding a less experimental snip from the sea scorpion, its raised poisonous tail promised a not so lucky dodge next time.  Without many options, Kida did the first impulse that struck.  Narrowing her dark eyes, an otherworldly power brought a fuchsia glow to ignite her irises.  The glare was nothing short of sinister.  The crustacean, upon meeting Kida’s wicked gaze, suddenly stopped and cowered before her.  It’s tail dropped, body lowered, and overall the thing looked as if dread kept it from attacking OR fleeing.

Struggling to stand as quickly as she could, given her new wound and warped vision, Kida kept her wicked eyed glare focused on the scorpion before her, or anything else that’d have the misfortune of locking eyes.  Tearing her sights away from the sea vermin for the briefest of moments to scour her surroundings, the initial lack of seeing her twin, Kyra, immediately put her into a state of panic that had her forgetting all about the scorpion.

“KYRA!”  Kida screamed over and over as she limped back; this time her voice MUCH louder.  Breathing heavy and feeling her heart drop, she feared for the worst when her sister didn’t respond, and was lost to anything else the other castaways around her were screaming or doing at that given moment.  Then came the voices in her head… And lets just say they weren’t going to help matters much either.  Quite the opposite actually, if allowed to have their way.

Out of everything however, the sea scorpion was still cowering before the young Half-Elf, so at least she had that going for her, which was nice.

The feast was indeed great, even the small portion of flat bread that was in Kyra's stomach. Though something felt off. She felt herself growing tired and before she knew it.. the darkness had overtaken her senses completely. She hadn't even had time to look at her sister to suggest they retire for the night.

The dream she would have would be one that left her feeling full of questions. All of which would be forgotten.

Laying upon the sand curled slightly in her cloak, Kyra hadn't quite woken up when Tavish or Laxus shouted. No, this would have been the best night's sleep she had since they boarded the ship. That is until she heard her sister's cry for her help. As always her sister's voice woke her better than a slap in the face with a block of ice. That kind of startling scream that called for instant action, no thought.

Her golden eyes snapped open and she sat up right causing a rain of sand from her dark hair. She spun around to see what was going on, though she was slightly blinded looking into the sunlight. That didn't matter however. She was to her feet and rushing toward her sister, reaching for.. but not finding her dagger. Well crap. Rather than look for a weapon, she chose to dive in without. Kicking up sand into what..well.. could be assumed as the creature's face, while reaching out a hand to take her sister by the arm.

It would not be in Kyra's nature to ask or question where she was or why she was there.. not yet anyway. All that mattered was her sister was in danger, she had to act now or wait till her sister no longer had a leg to stand upon.

Huon lay face down on the beach, hands clutching at the sand. He had been snoring when all the shouting started, and at first the commotion was little more than a mild annoyance. He raised a hand, waving away the distant clamor with a dismissive wave.

"Five more minutes, damn you."

Of all the surfaces he had woken up on, t'was not often that he found himself blinking away sand. Sand? Last he was aware, he was on a boat... the blacking out... well... that wasn't entirely new... he'd had many nights end similarly.... a haze of incomplete memories and embarrassing rumors. Certainly passing out on a beach seemed a rather mild end to a wild night... but all things considered... ship plus beach could only mean one thing.

"By the gods, we've run aground!"

He sat up, blinking away the blurr of sleep.

"By the gods, we're under attack!"

"By the gods, look at the size of that!"

Where most people might have turned tail and ran, the inquistor's desire to fight overcame any good sense. He ran to the pile on wobbling legs, grabbing what looked to be a handle and wrenching it free with a powerful jerk.

A mace! Well... not his first choice... but it was better than nothing.

Weapon in hand, he charged forward to the two that seemed the most in peril. A pair of women... now didn't that seem the perfect chance to be heroic.

"WORRY NOT, GOOD LADIES. I SHALL PROTECT YOU!"

Considering the scorpion's cowed state... it didn't exactly fight the killing blow of Huon's mace. The blunt head smashed into the creature's chitinous hide with a sickening CRACK, and after several seconds of thrashing the creature fell to the sand, quite dead.

This was what he had hoped for. Glorious battle. Though in his day dreams... he saw himself fighting more humanoid creatures rather than giant stingy sea bugs. Ah well... as the old saying goes, beggars can't be choosers.

Quarry slain, he took a short bow before charging off to the next beast.

"Have at you, beastie!"

Tavish was at the pile as fast as his stubby dwarven legs would carry him, and he practically dove into it when he went for the first handle he could find. Of course, such was not the case, as diving into a pile of pointy things was not advisable, but he did pull out a rapier, which was nice.

Not one to be outdone by the screaming human, Tavish LEAPED into the fray with a weapon he was utterly unfamiliar with. However, his master's words rung true in his head. STICK THE BARMY SOD WITH THE POINTY END.

  He quickly arrived next to the so-called Inquisitor, lunging awkwardly with the rapier towards his target, he treated the elegant sword more like a spear than anything. Throwing his body weight into the thrust, it none-the-less found its mark between the chitinous armour of a second Ochre Seascorpion.

  With a boot planted in on the face of its wildly-twitching body, he jerked the rapier free, now covered in all sorts of nasty effluence.

"Ya swing that mace like a soddin' woman, berk. Maybe ye should 'ave a woman's weapon, yeah?"

His tone was not vicious, but it was clearly a jab towards the stranger. He was offering him the handle of the rapier.

Once the others had awoken and the other men were showing their stuff, Laxus was quickly feeling left out of the fun. Whipping the 'weapon' back, he'd fling at at the once advancing on him, before turning and searching the pile. Yanking out another weapon, he couldn't stop the grind from creeping across his features, as he felt relief flood through out his body. He had found his axe. Armed with a weapon meant for doing some real damage, he too would turn to aid in fighting back the monsters from the deep. With his blood pumping from all of the sudden turn of events, the blonde haired man would set forth to dispatch the sea creature that was closing in on him.

Hurling himself forward, he'd swing his axe from the hip, aiming towards the tail of the creature. He didn't know about the rest of the thing, but he had a damn good 'feeling' the tail would be the best thing to deal with first. One or two swings he'd miss, but on the third and lucky strike, his attack would cut clean through the tail. Years of chopping down tree after tree was showing it's worth, as it only took one slice to disable the blasted thing. As the thing stumbled back, blood dripping from it's now open wound, he'd press in for the kill.

Holding his axe high, he'd bring it down with the same amount of might, in which he used when splitting logs. As the axe cracked the skull and sinked in, he'd just yell out the first thing that came to mind. A battle cry, that would make the men envy him and the women swoon for him! Belting out his words before he could think, it would not even click for him WHAT he was saying, until it was far too late. . .


"AWWW, YEAAAH!"

Kida’s cries grew more frantic each moment that she receive no response from her twin.  It was enough to nearly bring her to the snapping point, what with that and the whole waking up drugged and exhausted over whatever in the nine hells happened the night before.  Breaths quickening and heart pounding in her chest, the bewitching glow in Kida’s eyes continued to intensify as the sea scorpion began its advance once more, though much more timidly.  

The scorpion didn’t crawl very far forward when it was suddenly met with a cloud of sand being blasted to its face.  With the crustacean momentarily staggered, Kida whirled towards whoever suddenly grabbed her arm with a sharp glare.  Instantly the wicked flames that had ignited her irises dissipated once seeing it was Kyra, returning them to the natural shade of gold they were.  An audible gasp of relief escaped her dry lips as she grabbed hold of her sister’s arm and moved in closer to her, as if to merely relish in the comfort of the fact that she was alive and well.

What happened next was pretty much a blur as the armed inquisitor charged in to vanquish the sea scorpion expertly with a mighty swing of his mace.  Not long after, a Dwarf joined the fray to slay yet another one of the sea vermin that had scuttled up onto shore.  Were that not enough, the final shout of victory from the axe wielding man yonder upon slaying the final clawed bastard pretty much summed up the immediate threat in the area.  All that remained was the rhythmic crashing of waves upon the wide beach that they all found themselves standing on, and the cries of a large bird--a hawk by the sounds of it--calling out in the distance.  It’s cries, Kyra and Kida would both note, sounded strangely familiar.

Now that the fighting was done, for the time being anyways, Kida turned to regard her sister with a look of genuine relief before wrapping both arms around her in a tight embrace.  “I feared I lost you.”  She whispered into her ear and tangle of hair.  It mattered not what tragedy or situation they both found themselves in, so long as Kyra was by her side, she knew everything would be okay.




The drugged sensation that intoxicated everyone’s mind slowly began to let up, leaving only the aches of their bodies and the very real confusion as to what all had actually transpired.  Now that their hungry foes had been defeated, each are able to fully take stock of their surroundings and ponder several initial questions that likely flooded the mind:

“What happened?” Each has a clear memory of sitting down to dinner aboard the Jenivere.  After that, there’s nothing but a confusing jumble of images, remembered as if in a dream--feelings of nausea, panic, fear, and drowning.  The logical conclusion is that the Jenivere sank or wrecked, and that those here had washed up on shore.  Although, a quick lookover of oneself would reveal that none are particularly wet, and someone had stacked their gear in a pile for them.  Any further examination of the beach for tracks is enough to find evidence of a set of humanoid footprints leading to and from the water, along with a fair number of furrows leading up to where all had woke, suggesting that someone dragged them up from the water’s edge.

”Where is the Jenivere?”  It should only take a few moments of scanning the northern vista to spot a familiar-looking ship.  This is the Jenivere, listing to port, partially submerged and with her hull a gaping ruin as she leans against a jagged cliff side among several sharp rocks. A stomach dropping sight to behold, to say the least.

”Why do I feel sick?  While exposure to the elements and the ordeal of surviving a shipwreck can account for some of the sickness everyone is suffering, those more versed in the art of alchemy or medicine can confirm that they’re also suffering the aftereffects of being poisoned.  Such would also explain why none have any memories of the past several hours.  Fortunately, this feeling passes quickly enough for most.

”Who are these other people?”  Five others who had remained unconscious during the initial fight against the sea scorpions begin to stir slightly in the sand nearby.  These are your fellow passengers, yet it would be noted that one other passenger, the Varisian scholar Ieana, is missing, as are all of the ship’s crew.

"I shall have you know that a rapier is a weapon of finesse. More thought put into its use than a mere 'unga bunga me swing heavy thing.'"

But, upon close inspection... the weapon did look familiar. He had had a rapier in his luggage, though how it managed to survive or how the mystery savior, or whomever had arranged the pile of goodies, knew to leave it on the beach was beyond reckoning.

Returning the gesture, he held out the mace handle-first. The trade was quick and before too long, he was quickly looking about for a clean bit of cloth to wipe the blade down. Putting a sword away dirty was asking for it to get stuck in its sheath.

"Right! So... now that we're all alive and well, perhaps we ought to sort through this pile of supplies and divvy up its contents. We can worry about where we are and what to do next once we're all a bit less vulnerable."

The inquisitor wandered his way over the the heap of gear and set about searching through it. If his rapier was present, then perhaps his bow had made it too.

A few minutes passed as he sorted various bits of equipment from the pile before he managed to pull out the curved wood of a longbow. A quiver came soon after, its arrows scattered, but with time enough of them had been collected.


-----------------

Gelik eventually crawled his way out of an overturned barrel, a hand rubbing at the side of his head. A good portion of his face was heavily bruised... apparently from a tumble he had taken when both he and Tavish crashed to the ground.

"Bloody dwarf poisoned me..." he grumbled in his gnomish voice.

He surveyed his surroundings, noting the dead creatures on the beach as well as the distant remains of the ship.

"Looks like the ship's... you!" he stomped up the the dwarf, wagging an angry finger in his face. "Look what you did! This will take DAYS to fade."

"And I'll have you know, some sod in heavy armour'd walk right through that toothpick yer callin' a sword." Tavish quipped back

With the adrenaline retreating quickly out of his system, he had a moment to collect his thoughts. He distinctly recalled doing laps around the mess hall, carrying the gnome over his shoulder in an attempt to call a bluff by scaring the hell out of his opponent, and then, nothing. That's when he tasted it, distinct, metallic tang on his tongue, coupled with the dry feeling, his best guess would be poison.

  Poison... he pondered that a moment before looking out towards the ruins of Jenivere, dashed upon some jagged edges. With activity stirring on the beach, he noted the lack of crew members and slipped the crude mace into his belt loop before he position a set of pinched fingertips between his lips and loosing a shrill whistle that would surely jab anyone out of their groggy spell.

  As much as he would have liked to pick through at his leisure, he had a feeling that being armed and arming everyone seemed like the best course of action. Nothing quite put a mind at ease like arms and armour. Tavish then began to take the liberty of sorting through the pile of stuff, spreading out to where people may claim what's theres, and hopefully, with his glowering presence, hault any straying fingers that sought to claim what wasn't theirs.

  Amongst those items, he found his own kit. Consisting of his beloved portable alchemist's kit, his favoured sling, light crossbow, and of course, dagger and light pick. The latter of which replaced the crude mace he'd traded for.

  Tavish snapped his gaze towards the approach gnome, he hadn't even bothered to straighten his back and he managed to stand even with the the diminutive man. He was not pleased.

"Quit rattlin' your bonebox and me, biter. If you hadn't noticed I'm in the same soddin' position as you are" He bent back down to rearrange a longsword neatly, smirking.

"You're just sore 'cause ya were 12 silver in the hole."

---------------------------------

Elsewhere, Ishirou got to his feet, and, without a single utterance, calmly walked up to the pile and retrieved his katana. He slipped in his sash and moved elsewhere along the beach and sat facing the sea.

Once she had a hold of Kida, Kyra placed herself between her sister and the battle. Not that the battle had lasted long. Standing calmly watching as the men seemed to take over.. before turning to look over her sister for any obvious wounds. "Not likely, Sister. Are you alright? Do you need bandages?" Kyra might have been suffering the same effects as everyone else, but this did not change the calm expression upon her face.

As she looked over Kida, she noted she was ok save for some scrapes from the attack. She turned and looked at the Dwarf for a moment as he started to sift through the pile with that other guy. For a moment she did not care until she noticed him reaching for her dagger. She tensed up and glanced at her sister. To his eyes, it looked to be nothing more than an ornate bone dagger with a tassel at the end. To the touch however, it felt as heavy as a sword and hard to the touch, where bone would be softer. It almost felt as if someone had put a layer of paint upon it. It felt like something heavier th... That is as far as he would get in the inspection of the blade.

Cutting the distance short with the blink of an eye she snatched up the dagger and fastened it to her belt. Offering him a soft smile. "Thank you." Her smokey tone offered some kindness to her action. "Was afraid I had lost that." Like that.. it was over. Turning away from him to look at her sister and be sure she was alright. She would then follow her sister, making sure she met with no resistance in claiming her items. She would later sift through for her herb pouches and scrolls if they were still there.. After some time along the beach to find her cloak where she had left it in the sand.. She turned her golden gaze upon the ruined ship in a silent moment, trying to remember the night before.

Deep in thought the only thing that pulled her out of her suspicions of what happened.. was the glimpse of a red haired female as she awoke. It was not so much the color of the female's hair.. but that her shirt had been let to hang low in the back.. and a familiar symbol scared the otherwise perfect tanned flesh. Kyra lowered her chin and set her jaw tight. She watched as the female yawned wide and smiled at others that woke up around her. Giving a soft tug of her shirt to pull it down in the front and give a wink to the man with the axe. If anyone had anything to do with this.. it was probably her... Or so Kyra would suspect.

-----------------------

Sasha had been awake for some of the battle, but hardly interested. Sounded like whoever was at it already had it handled. For a few moments longer she would hang out on the beach, enjoying the feel of the sun starting to warm her flesh. It wasn't until she heard the bickering of a few 'short' people that she finally decided she should 'wake up'.

She slowly stands up stretching and yawning and smiling at those around her, that obviously couldn't help but notice her lovely athletic figure against the silhouette of the blue waters and sky. When she caught the eye of one particular male she shrugged her shoulders and adjusted her shirt to fit around them. Giving him a playful wink before she went over to see to retrieving her own items from the pile of 'stuff'. For a woman lacking one finger, she sure had a lot of confidence.

If she were upset, she sure didn't show it. Looking happy and optimistic compared to most of the others stranded along side her.

The man known as Laxus wouldn't say much, but was frowning as he listens to everyone. Just what had happen? What was going on. Was this the norm with traveling by ship? Going over to the pile along with the others, after having yanked his axe free of the dead sea creature's body, he'd soon be searching through it as well for his things. Either some odd ball of a thing was going on here, or he was VERY out of the loop on what the hell people did when crash landing. Rubbing at his chin, the blonde haired one would muse it all over, before sighing and shrugging to himself. He had not a single answer to any of this.

Turning away from the pile of weapons, he'd move to stand close to the waves, as they reached the shores of the beach they were on. Looking up and down the coast, he'd look to see if there was any markers of sorts, any ships in the distances, or if there was anyone else, aside from the small group around him. "So. . .where's our ship and just, what happen?" He asked, despite the fact the man with the bow had a point. They had no clue where they were, thus this point of landing was too risky to stay at for long. Though he couldn't help asking it. He wasn't use to adventuring, and it was going to show as he kept looking around at them; as if expecting one of them to answer that question of his.

Kida pulled away from the embrace she gave her twin while shaking her head with that same dumb look of relief on her sand covered face.  “I’m fine now, Sister.  Don’t worry about me.”  The wound on her leg did draw blood initially when pinched, but it wasn’t anything to be concerned nor worried with considering the size.  By the looks of it, there were bigger issues at hand that needed their attention presently.  And so, brushing the sand off of clothes, face and shawl, Kida took several moments longer to collect herself before likewise moving towards the pile of goods that everyone was sifting through.

As was discovered by all in due time, each and everyone’s belongings were there and accounted for.  Some items were damp from the rescue, and others even still soaked, but beyond that, there was no damage done.  

Retrieving her staff, which had a similar resemblance to the dagger that Kyra had moments ago snatched and stashed, the rest of their gear was gradually plucked from the pile and accounted for: backpacks, bedrolls, candles, chalk, flint and steel… Tools of the trade one would typically guess a pair of wanderers to have when expecting a long journey ahead of them.

Taking the needed time to take stock on their inventory, Kida eventually gave her Kyra a knowing nod before rising to her feet in order to stand close to her twin’s side.  Once there, her golden gaze detached from the currently gathered crowd in order to better regard the setting they had all been tossed into.  Only when the axe-wielding man asked his question in regards to what happened to the ship did Kida turn her gaze towards him.

Without saying a word, Kida stared at Laxus with an emotionless look for what could be perceived as a long time before finally raising an arm to point a finger in the direction of the shipwreck.  Once done with that, she went back to assessing the area around them.

To the south, a wall of green rises in the form of a dense jungle filled with a cacophony of life.  To the east and west, ragged arms of jagged rocks reach out to embrace a wave-tossed cove, while to the north, the waters of the sea surge and churn between the beach and a line of razor-sharp rocks.  From there, it was hard to avoid the haunting shipwreck that loomed nearby.

Even a cursory glance is enough to confirm that the Jenivere will never sail again.  Only the fortuitous presence of a sharp ridge of rock near the side of the sheer cliff wall has prevented the wreck from sinking entirely into the sea, for only the ship’s stern seems to have survived the wreck.  This portion is wedged at an angle between the cliff and rocks, and each wave shakes and tosses the wreck alarmingly.  It won’t be long before the constant pounding of the waves dislodges the wreck and allows the hungry sea to claim the last of this once-fine ship.

Realizing this, Kida’s eyes dropped to regard the terrain that kept the ship up.  The tide was low, as could be expected this early in the morning, exposing slippery rocks that could be navigated, allowing someone to walk all the way up to a ledge on the cliff that overlooks the upper deck of the wreck.  She imagined during high-tide, the only other way of reaching the wreck would be a dangerous 150-foot swim or climb along the cliff’s side… Which by then, by her guess, little, if anything, would remain of the ship.

While studying these sights and pondering her observations, something more started to tug at Kida’s mind.  They were voices, yet unlike the mess of chaotic utterings and screams that had plagued her mind up until now, they were… Different.  What they spoke of actually flowed somewhat coherently.  What they conveyed in feelings, she empathized in emotions.  Even imagery was somewhat projected, yet not very successfully.  

Turning fully towards the shoreline , Kida took several steps away from her twin and in its direction, as if somehow convinced that lessening the gap between her and it would somehow cause the voices to make sense.  Closer towards the ocean she moved, until her feet were met with the incoming waves did she finally stop to stare.  Kyra, were she watching her twin, would recognize these actions and know what was likely to follow; Kida’s episodes have always been the same.

“Smuggler’s Shiv.”  Kida said abruptly, interrupting whatever conversation or debate that may have been going on amongst the other castaways.  Craning her neck and pivoting her body just enough to look back towards the group, her golden orbs rested on Kyra for a long moment, before shifting towards the others.

“It’s a notorious island north of Eleder.  It’s not shown on most maps, but is rightfully feared by those who ply the waters of Desperation Bay.”  Kida hardly could understand where this information was coming from that poured out of her mouth.  It was as if she was simply forced to paraphrase the myriad of voices that spoke and conveyed this information in her head.  “The island is named not only for the knife-like shape of its coastline, but for its uncanny habit of wreckings ships that draw too near--mostly smugglers eager to avoid detection by Sargava’s navy…”

Purposely biting her bottom lip in order to force herself to stop talking, Kida winced before turning back towards the beach.  Try as she may, she simply couldn’t shut up.  “It’s commonly believed that the shores of Smuggler’s Shiv are haunted by the ghosts and ghouls of the sailors who have died on the jagged rock sand reefs surrounding the island.  These rumors are supported by reports of several failed attempts to establish long-lasting colonies on the remote island.  When Sargava was first settled, Chelish engineers erected a lighthouse on the Shiv’s southwest shore.  The light was intended to warn approaching ships of the dangerous waters and, eventually, was to have been the first building in a small colony.  The light and all plans for colonization were abandoned just before completion amid rumors of...”  Pausing, her shoulders dropped before she turned to look at the group again.  “Curses, haunts, and cannibalism.”

Appearing to be well versed on the geographical history of this island, only Kyra would know the truth.  All that information, be it true or not… Kida certainly did not know prior to any of this.  

Once again, the loud cries of a hawk rang out in the distance.  This time, Kida would note, that it sounded much closer.

Huon spent a good moment just staring at the axe-wielder before lifting his arm to point out toward the wreck. Once he had gotten that out of his system and had secured his gear, he allowed himself a moment to take in his surroundings in full.

Jungle, jagged rock, and a beach... the options were all so appealing. Without any way of knowing just what hope they had of reaching a settlement, there were a few key survival elements to get in order. Namely sources of fresh water, food, and shelter. And aside from creepy crawly stabby lobsters, he'd yet to see anything edible... but if worse came to worse they could always eat the gnome.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the half-elf's sudden barrage of information. Huon could only sit and absorb... but mostly he nodded and tried to look as though he was following along.

"Yes, well thank you for all the information, good lady. Why anyone would attempt to sail through an area named 'Desperation Bay' is beyond me. The name alone... I mean... why can't these places have friendlier names like... the Sea of Warm Embraces... or... The Bay of Friendly Handshakes?"

Finished with his oh so clever little quip, the inquisitor pulled a rather fine looking flagon from his pack. Waving his free hand over the top, the container began to fill with a strong scented wine.

"I do not wish  to sound pessimistic, but I doubt we are going to find a port town just over the next hill. Right, so not that I need much of a reason to drink to something. But perhaps we ought share a drink get to know each other better. Let us give our names and any useful skills we might possess. Feel free to make a toast to whatever comes to mind."

"I'll start. I'm Huon Traugott. I'm a monster-hunter. I'm good with a bow and I can serve  up a mean drink. I know a few minor magics and I dedicate my life to the service of the Lucky Drunk."

He held the flagon aloft, a grin working over his lips.

"And I would like to propose a toast to our continued survival and good fortune."

Finished with his speech, he lowered the flagon to his awaiting mouth and drank deeply of the sweet wine.

The flagon was then lowered down to the nearby dwarf. It was full to the brim despite the sheer amount that disappeared into Huon's mouth.

Flyn, satisfied with his small collection of stuff, namely the rest of his kit, now began to drag one of the sea-scorpions inland, plopping him next to a deployed alchemist's lab for harvesting. From this, he produce a fine-edged cutting implement, and carefully began to sever the cartilage at the base of the barbed head of its stinger.

  When Laxus spoke his words of wisdom the elf, utterly devoid expression turned and stared at the man, and, in joining with the others, jammed a pale finger towards the wreck of the ship.

  With that addressed, and the half-elf going on a tirade which he had opted to half-listen to, he had freed the barbed bulb from the rest of the tail with a wrenching jerk and spray of clear, watery blood.

"Long story short, we've a snowball's chance in the Nine Hell o' comin' out of this one clean, is what you're sayin'?" He offered his keen insight to Kida, turning now to Huon with a curious, though dubious gaze.

 By now, his hands were covered in that thing's filth, though he took the courtesy of wiping it on his pantleg before he took the flagon, and, with a sniff, took himself a swig. It was bland and formulaic, about what he'd expected from magically generated booze. But hey, a drink's a drink.

"Flyn. Good at range, good in close, tracking, hiding, thieving. And I would much rather be in a soddin' tavern. NEXT."

 The flagon was held outwards, in an open gesture to any who wished to come next. He waggled it impatiently.

"Ummm. . ." The bearded man would look a bit lost at it all, feeling as if this was all one big joke. Maybe it was true? As it seems people were taking turns saying who they were, he'd shrug and plop down onto the beach, before speaking his words. ". . .well, I'm Laxus. I used to cut wood for a living. Good with an axe. . .oh, I know how to read rather well!" He exclaims, smiling a bit as if he had an edge on everyone around him. Where he came from, not many knew how to, thus he figured most of the world didn't take the time to learn to read. That or they didn't have a good schooling system.

"Didn't really expect to crash, so. . .guess my job will be to gather wood, make fire. . .oh, maybe I can build a small house! Least a shed!" Once more, pride feeling his voice, as he had learned a little about house making, when he was chopping down trees a few years ago.