In the Middle of...Somewhere

[Ankh-Morpork Guard]

OOC Thread
Character Thread



Not a week ago, the small ship, Star of Llry, left its dock with a group of merchants and other passengers for a long trip across the Great Sea. There were to be stops at many of the islands along the way, though only one such stop had been made so far. Two others had been taken aboard in the process, and like most, kept to themselves and tried to keep themselves from getting seasick or too bored aboard the ship on what was going to be a long journey.

Then, during the morning two days after the short stop on the small, coastal island, the ship was attacked. Whatever it was that brought down the Star of Llry, or even why, you don't know. What you do know is that it happened very quickly, and before you knew it you were in the cold water of the ocean. In the chaos, it was hard to tell where everyone that had been aboard the ship was, though screaming could be heard and at least some tried to help one another.

While some drowned, others stayed afloat and attempted to make a hard swim to an island that was actually within sight. Few made it. None of the crew could be seen.

By the time the survivors had reached the shore, be it from the current, which was surprisingly strong, or managing to swim the entire way, there were only six of you left.

It was hot. The sand of the beach was more of a rough dirt, and quickly gave way to rough patches of grass here and there. Eventually, a loose collection of trees, that might have been a jungle years ago, could be seen, though it was closer to the horizon than to the water. There also seemed to be a large amount of debris washing up on the shore with you, but most of it looked to simply be pieces of wood and other useless junk.

At least you'd managed to get your own possessions before the ship went down. Not that it looked like it would do you much good. From what you could see, there were no signs of...well...anything around beyond what had washed up along with you.

 

[Voda Vosa]

A pacefull travel to his destiny was what Bonamius had in mind. After geting off the ship he would get to the tavern, and murder his target, that filthy gnome. But there was something he didn't foreseen, something he didn't include in his calculations. The ship was removed from the ocean so fast that he couldn't even identify the attackers. The next thing Bonamius knew was that the water was salty and cold.
After swiming to the relatively close island, he gather his backpack, and other stuff that scape from it. Luckily there was all of it, nothing missing. Even his fishook.
He looks to the island where he was. He sigh, and start walking along the shore. Maybe there where others who made it, or at least some corpses to scavenge.
"Damn pice of garvage, you could have hold a bit longer..." he wisper to himself addressing to the broken pices of the ship.
After walking for a while he starts to infurate.
"I curse you Fool Island!" he shouts to the sky. Still anger he takes of his backpack and extracts his fishng hook. With some of the shore tables and some string he takes from his blanket he build a pathetic kind of fishing rod, and tries tu fish someting.

 

[ethandrew]

Finally hitting the wet beach, Slim rolls onto his back. After being tossed one time after another by the rough waves, the security of solid ground felt reassuring. Laying there panting, he stares up into the sky and gets lost in the moment. Distantly he can hear screams, very faint, but the former screams of terror now seemed to be of despair. He lets out a snort of derision and wonders if they finally caught him. Before that idea could settle in he instinctively turns his side and retches up copious amounts of saltwater.

He collapses. Minutes, hours, days-weeks-months pass by in seconds. Finally he gathers the strength to push himself up, bracing his weight with his arms. His knees push deep into the wet sand, sinking him ever so slightly. Looking around he can see the flotsam that saved his life and other survivors strugging in the distant parts of the beach. He pulls one leg forward, dragging his knee through the mud before he firmly plants a foot down and stands himself upward. Vomit stings his nose and he holds one nostril closed while he pushes hard, forcing all water, mucus, and remaining puke to expel out. He repeats with the other nostril unceremoneously. Shaking his sleeves, he looks at his surroundings and sighs.

 

[EvolutionKB]

Victor

Victor walks out of the surf, not struggling like some of the others probably will. He had been in the hold at the time of the attack. All he heard were screams and sounds of the Star of Llry breaking apart. As the waters swallowed him, he didn't panic. The respect that he awarded the great green dragon Chlorilaxis, had earned him the ability to mimic dragon's ability to breathe water. Thus he swam out of the great hole punched in the hull and to the surface. He spotted an island and began calmly swimming towards it. Now standing upon the beach he began stripping naked. The sun was high and it was hot. Before they knew it would be night and it would be cold. He needed to get dry quick. He was tall and lanky. The little muscle he had was stretched over his body. He ran his fingers through his damp black hair. He heard the forsaken cries of somebody down the beach. They would need a fire, that would be next, after any more survivors showed up.

 

[Blarkon Dragonslayer]

Valmun is washed ashore, still holding onto a large piece of wood. For some while he just lays there, in the sand, staring at nothing. Then, without appearing to hurry, he sits up, stretches, and looks around. He reaches into his haversack, and takes out a waterskin and a some dried meat, chewing a bit of the meat as he examines his surroundings. "Well, at least the universe is consistently out to get me, it's not just a summer fling. I wonder if I can get a refund on the price of passage?"

 

[Voda Vosa]

"A complete faliure! As usual when I try out this mundane tasks! Bah" thinks the warlock, as he retrives his fishook and discard the 'rod'. "There must be someone else on this putrid pice of land" he says in a wisper as he examines the surroundings.
Far from where he is standing, there is something like 1 or so meters tall. "To big for a flotasm." Bonamius think, before he start walking toward what ever it could be.
After a half hour walk, he distinguish the shape of a man, sitting on the sands of the shore. He walks closer, enough to be noted be the other.
"Greetings to you my fellow swimer" says the warlock with a ridiculous bow, water driping from his clothes. His dark chain shirt has algae attached to it, as do his boots. His black hair si salty, and full of sand. His right hands is free, and his left hand holding his dripping backpack.
"Its indeed a relife that I'm not the only survivor" Bonamius stated.

 

[stonegod]

It had been a well appointed cabin. Lord Elderwood demanded the finest of everything. The divan Jan had been sitting on was fine for ships furuniture, in a style famous in the distant southern shores.

It was very comfortable, even if he was manacled to it.

Jan saw nothing of the trip. He had been shuffled unceremoniously to his chair and left there. Fully dressed and armed of course---Jan was a very expensive decoration when not fighting for his master's entertainment. Nothing gave Lord Elderwood more pleasure than seeing the heavily armed boy helpless to do anything.

When the attack came, the Lord was entertaining some merchant travelers, probably hoping to make some profit. They were discussing crossbow shipments, had even brought some of their merchandise. But when the attack came, each only thought of themselves. Jan's master had cruelly shoved one of the men aside in his flight abovedecks; the remaining conscious one looked at Jan helplessly a moment before he too fled.

Jan did not struggle. He had been too long a slave for that. No, he waited and looked, patient. It could be a trick. Or, whatever it was could pass and his master would return for him. It was not until there were those sickening lurches and the water began bursting in that he panicked. He tried to break the manacles first, but that was useless. The divan, however, was more decorative than sturdy, and soon yielded to his adrenaline fueled efforts. Soon, he was free. Jan barely had the presence of mind to start trying to escape when the floating box of test merchandise clipped in the head.

Then there was blackness.

Though it was his decorative prison, the divan saved his life. Prostrated across it in his unconsciousness, he unknowingly floated most of the way ashore. When he came too, Jan was only a few hundred feet from shore. He paddled his makeshift raft towards the beach, and with a heave, landed ashore.

Picking up one of the remaining merchant's wares and some bolts that had been with it, Jan surveyed his surroundings. The manacles may still hold his wrists, but one thing seemed clear for now.

He was free.

 

[Legildur]

Exhausted, soaked to the skin, and cover in salt crystals from the evaporation of the sea water, Yarra keeps hugging the piece of driftwood that saved his life for a few moments longer.

Summoning all his will, he slowly stands in the soft, wet sand as the waves continue to break over him. Stumbling a few paces to the firmer sand, he collapses onto his back and immediately regrets doing so as the prod of his crossbow digs into his back.

Finally sitting up, he takes immediate stock of his possessions and finding them intact, albeit wet and in need of some care. Putting that aside for the moment, Yarra looks around him and sees five other shipwrecked souls on the beach. 'Is that all?' he asks of himself.

Wiping his nose with his wet sleeve, the skinny, unremarkable human, makes his way towards the others.

The first he comes across is an imposing looking man with manacled wrists.

"I don't recall seeing you on the ship?" he comments from a safe distance. "Why are you secured?" he asks, wary of anyone silly enough to get caught doing something they shouldn't be doing.

 

[EvolutionKB]

Victor

Fully dressed and dry again, Victor walks along the beach again, looking for survivors or anything that would be useful from the wreck. Eventually he comes to another passenger. He is half lying on the ground. Judging from the hacking noises and the vomit on his clothes Victor would assume that he just threw up. He has short black hair, and not a whisker on his face, much unlike Victor, who is showing much stubble from being in the hold for a few days. "Are you okay?" He holds his hand out for the small man to grab so Victor can help him lift him to his feet. Another man stands nearby, much taller than the other; he has a black chain shirt. A morningstar is at his hip.

[sblock=Voda Vosa]Your rapid shot feat will not help you with either you Eldritch blast or heavy crossbow. Spell penetration adds to rolls against spell resistance not the saving throws. You probably want Ability Focus(Eldritch Blast). That adds +2 to the DC.[/sblock]

 

[ethandrew]

"Are you okay?"

Looking up at the massive sight towering above him, Slim extends his hand and takes the proffered one attached to the long limbed man. He stands up and smiles genially, "Quite alright, considering the alternative we faced." He laughs slightly and shakes his head, looking around at the beachfront and the few number of men who made it to shore.

He looks up again at the tall man, "I feel like a pittance of a man standing next to you, it is actually a little quaint. Maybe one of these days we can make a basket to hang from your shoulders and you could carry me, for the difference between our strides would allow travel to go much quicker. But I jest, surely one so outfitted as yourself has a much more important existance than to help me rest my sea-weary legs. Answer me this, should we fear further threats from those who initially attacked us? I would hope not, as their potency was well displayed and those few of us who survived would pose a meager resistance. It would seem prudent then that we should aid the others, much like in the manner you aided me. That way in case of an unfortunate raid onto this beach to finish our soaked souls, we could hope to survive once again."

He rambled as he looked around at different things: the men washed onto the beach, both alive and dead; out to the sea, where the poor Star of Llyr met its unfortunate demise; the trees and shrubberies promising shelter from the sun. He rambled and wrung the water out of his sleeves. He rambled as he tilted his head and used his finger to pull out any contents settling in his ears. He rambled as he stared at the dark haired man with eyes much like his own.