As you shove off from shore.
The sky overhead is completely covered in storm clouds, but you can still see the island - it seems to be lit by a faint glow, enough for you to see what is going on.
As you watch, tornados - 10 or 12, at least - descend from the heavy mantle of clouds cloaking the sky. The tornados begin tearing alon the island and stripping great tracts of territory up into the air.
Hurricane-force winds are scouring the island, and from your vantage point you can see the ruins of the town, plus the manor, barracks, and stable, begin disintegrating, being thrown plank by plank and beam by beam into the air.
The Orc and Goblin boats on the beaches are being driven up onto the beach, torn apart by the winds and battering seas. You can dimly see their crews running, scattering, some of them being thrown like leaves up against the cliff side, others swept out to sea by the waves.
By the time you're a quarter of a mile out to sea, the rocking and pitching of your own boat begins to subside - it no longer threatens to throw you overboard. But things are worse, not better, back on the island, which seems strangely obscured now, covered from shore to shore bya grey brown whrilwind of racks and scrub brush and sand and sea which seem to scour the island.
And that's just what happens: by the time you're a mile away, the whirlwind lifts and the island is gray-white and smooth, resembling not at all the island you landed upon yesterday. There's not one hill, not one topographical feature that you remember. And, suddenly, the seas around you are still, the clouds overhead clear, and the stars and moom can be seen overhead.
[Module summary coming]
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