(Loose medieval-y fantasy roleplay involving interaction, exploration, combat, puzzles... all that fun stuff.)
(We're full up for now! If we lose a lot of players, I may reopen!)
Whatever you do, do not try to swim. The waves want you back.
You were a passenger on the beautiful passenger's ship, Eye of Maria. There was nothing between you and your destination, Azure Port, except for wide-open waters and blue skies.
But the ship is gone.
Maybe a seasoned traveller would have noticed when it went off-course. But there would be hardly any time to worry about that. Drawn by mysterious tides, the ship would begin listing. Without even tipping back the other way, the whole thing would be submerged. There would be no rescue. It felt as if the water was pulling on every piece of you.
And the ocean swallowed you.
... You are a lucky survivor. Or, perhaps, unlucky. The sun warms your face, but the rocks you lie on are hard and damp and mossy. The island you find yourself is small, taking less than a quarter hour to walk the perimeter.
And the waves are acting strangely. It's like they're pushing their way towards you.
There is no land in sight. The vegetation in this place will not support you. Who's to say whether another ship will so much as pass by? This island is unmapped.
Looking out over the ocean, things seem hopeless. But turn your eyes back to the island. It is not what it seems. There will be a way out. It is not safe, but it is your choice - crawl the passage or waste away in the grip of the ocean.
It seems you may not have much time to decide. The water will pursue you.
(We're full up for now! If we lose a lot of players, I may reopen!)
Whatever you do, do not try to swim. The waves want you back.
You were a passenger on the beautiful passenger's ship, Eye of Maria. There was nothing between you and your destination, Azure Port, except for wide-open waters and blue skies.
But the ship is gone.
Maybe a seasoned traveller would have noticed when it went off-course. But there would be hardly any time to worry about that. Drawn by mysterious tides, the ship would begin listing. Without even tipping back the other way, the whole thing would be submerged. There would be no rescue. It felt as if the water was pulling on every piece of you.
And the ocean swallowed you.
... You are a lucky survivor. Or, perhaps, unlucky. The sun warms your face, but the rocks you lie on are hard and damp and mossy. The island you find yourself is small, taking less than a quarter hour to walk the perimeter.
And the waves are acting strangely. It's like they're pushing their way towards you.
There is no land in sight. The vegetation in this place will not support you. Who's to say whether another ship will so much as pass by? This island is unmapped.
Looking out over the ocean, things seem hopeless. But turn your eyes back to the island. It is not what it seems. There will be a way out. It is not safe, but it is your choice - crawl the passage or waste away in the grip of the ocean.
It seems you may not have much time to decide. The water will pursue you.
Joel laid face-down on a stone, cold and damp and with moss in one of his eyes. His throat tasted like vomit and he could swear he smelled blood. But he was still alive. Which was, by all means, quite an accomplishment.
He cracked open the one of his eyes that wasn't pressed into the ground, the black-and-red one, and squinted through his hair at what he could see. The sky, all the way to the horizon, was the murky grey of a cloudy day. All he could see except for that was dirty rock and water. Miles and miles of blue ocean water, the same water that tugged still at his shoes, threatening to pull him back in if he didn't move.
That thought was enough to force him onto his elbows, clawing his way forward. The salty air burned his throat and he collapsed again further up the shore, coughing vigorously, then letting his head drop.
Man, he thought, how'm I gonna get out of this one?
He cracked open the one of his eyes that wasn't pressed into the ground, the black-and-red one, and squinted through his hair at what he could see. The sky, all the way to the horizon, was the murky grey of a cloudy day. All he could see except for that was dirty rock and water. Miles and miles of blue ocean water, the same water that tugged still at his shoes, threatening to pull him back in if he didn't move.
That thought was enough to force him onto his elbows, clawing his way forward. The salty air burned his throat and he collapsed again further up the shore, coughing vigorously, then letting his head drop.
Man, he thought, how'm I gonna get out of this one?
Nothing good will come of the Eye of Maria.
It was what her father had told her, what her mother had told her, and what she sweated up and down would be false. It didn't seem at this moment, though, that her swearing had changed her fate.
From where she lied, sprawled out on the rocks of a land she knew not, Clarre Ishmael saw the gorgeous ship as what it was -- a tangle of misery that had hypnotized her into believing it had magic. She cursed herself; she should have listened to her father! If she had, then perhaps she wouldn't be there, on an island that definitely wasn't marked on the maps, scratched up and weary. Her hair was in knots, and her dress was in shreds. She had sighed when she saw this; she had put thought into her appearance for the first time that night, for there was to be a group of stargazers up deck, and she had wanted to slither her way into their circle.
Clarre didn't yet want to rise -- not because she was struggling to come to terms with what had happened, but because it wasn't really that unpleasant. Yes, the rocks weren't comfortable to sit on, the sun was hot and her clothes stuck to her quite unpleasantly, but at least she was away from home. There would be no more pressure from her mother, and no more strict orders from her father.
It was just after her sixth minute of sitting there, stuck in a trance, that she broke out of it, stopped trying to look for positives, and broke down.
It was what her father had told her, what her mother had told her, and what she sweated up and down would be false. It didn't seem at this moment, though, that her swearing had changed her fate.
From where she lied, sprawled out on the rocks of a land she knew not, Clarre Ishmael saw the gorgeous ship as what it was -- a tangle of misery that had hypnotized her into believing it had magic. She cursed herself; she should have listened to her father! If she had, then perhaps she wouldn't be there, on an island that definitely wasn't marked on the maps, scratched up and weary. Her hair was in knots, and her dress was in shreds. She had sighed when she saw this; she had put thought into her appearance for the first time that night, for there was to be a group of stargazers up deck, and she had wanted to slither her way into their circle.
Clarre didn't yet want to rise -- not because she was struggling to come to terms with what had happened, but because it wasn't really that unpleasant. Yes, the rocks weren't comfortable to sit on, the sun was hot and her clothes stuck to her quite unpleasantly, but at least she was away from home. There would be no more pressure from her mother, and no more strict orders from her father.
It was just after her sixth minute of sitting there, stuck in a trance, that she broke out of it, stopped trying to look for positives, and broke down.
It had always been a dream of his to see the ocean. He had spoken of it with his mother and his siblings before. We'll all go together, he had found himself saying in his younger years. He could remember the smile on his mother's face that promised him that some day they would all be able to go see it. It made Rishin almost feel guilty that he had gone to see the ocean by himself- selfishly, inconsiderately. They travel by me now in spirit to see the water, he told himself in attempts to quell what concerns he had.
The ocean had been bigger than he had ever imagined- like the sprawling sands of the desert, only filled with water instead. It was incredible. And of course, it was only fitting that he traveled upon this ship to get a better taste of the ocean for himself. What better way to keep on the move than to board a ship? Azure Port laid a good ways off, and what a nice destination indeed.
His cloak had been covering him for the entirety of his stay on the ship, and he had kept to himself for the most part. However, he had been nowhere near prepared for what transpired that day.
It felt like an instant before he groggily awoke, vision blurry and body aching as he felt the sand underneath his cheek and at his palms. Cold water lapped at his legs and gave Rishin the incentive to prop himself up, getting up to move away from the chill. His legs hurt the most, feeling heavy and tired, though he willed himself further up the shore, eyes flickering about the beach and the horizon of ocean beyond. His cloak was soaked, yet was the only means of hiding his skin, Rishin enduring for his own good. Glancing to his left, he could see people on the shore as well in the distance. Were there more survivors?
The ocean had been bigger than he had ever imagined- like the sprawling sands of the desert, only filled with water instead. It was incredible. And of course, it was only fitting that he traveled upon this ship to get a better taste of the ocean for himself. What better way to keep on the move than to board a ship? Azure Port laid a good ways off, and what a nice destination indeed.
His cloak had been covering him for the entirety of his stay on the ship, and he had kept to himself for the most part. However, he had been nowhere near prepared for what transpired that day.
It felt like an instant before he groggily awoke, vision blurry and body aching as he felt the sand underneath his cheek and at his palms. Cold water lapped at his legs and gave Rishin the incentive to prop himself up, getting up to move away from the chill. His legs hurt the most, feeling heavy and tired, though he willed himself further up the shore, eyes flickering about the beach and the horizon of ocean beyond. His cloak was soaked, yet was the only means of hiding his skin, Rishin enduring for his own good. Glancing to his left, he could see people on the shore as well in the distance. Were there more survivors?
(OOC, so this is my first rp so I'm not exactly sure how to go about it but I'll give it my best shot)
There was a sharp pain in Anton's head. He wasn't entirely sure whether it was a result of one too many bottles the night prior or from that wooden beam that split down the middle and collided with the back of his head during the crash. Painfully, he mustered enough strength to sit up, lifting his enormous torso off the ground. The armor didn't help. Removing his helmet and spinning it around to the rear side, he could observe a small but noticeable dent.
"Yep, definitely the wooden beam," he said aloud as he stood up, taking in his surroundings.
Then, suddenly, he felt a sour taste in his mouth as the contents of his stomach rushed up into his mouth and out onto the white sand. Once he was finished, he wiped his mouth and kicked some sand over the mess he had just made.
"On second thought, maybe it was both," he said to himself with a chuckle.
He looked around for his pollaxe and, upon finding it, heaved it up onto his shoulder and carefully brushed off every bit of sand from its shaft. "What to do now?" he thought to himself as he took observation of his surroundings.
(OOC, hopefully that wasn't too bad..)
There was a sharp pain in Anton's head. He wasn't entirely sure whether it was a result of one too many bottles the night prior or from that wooden beam that split down the middle and collided with the back of his head during the crash. Painfully, he mustered enough strength to sit up, lifting his enormous torso off the ground. The armor didn't help. Removing his helmet and spinning it around to the rear side, he could observe a small but noticeable dent.
"Yep, definitely the wooden beam," he said aloud as he stood up, taking in his surroundings.
Then, suddenly, he felt a sour taste in his mouth as the contents of his stomach rushed up into his mouth and out onto the white sand. Once he was finished, he wiped his mouth and kicked some sand over the mess he had just made.
"On second thought, maybe it was both," he said to himself with a chuckle.
He looked around for his pollaxe and, upon finding it, heaved it up onto his shoulder and carefully brushed off every bit of sand from its shaft. "What to do now?" he thought to himself as he took observation of his surroundings.
(OOC, hopefully that wasn't too bad..)
Drake had boarded the Eye of Maria a long with the others, as well as he brought his faithful steed and companion, Lucey, on board. He really had no other choice, but none of that really matters now. He had spent his time calming the donkey down as they sailed the waters, as she kept snorting and trying to buck, but maybe that had been for good reason... He was unaware of the ship beginning to sink until it was fairly obvious. While water was pouring onto the deck he looked frantically towards the horizon, and there he spotted some sort of land in the distance. He quickly hopped up onto his steed and attempted to try to jump off the ship and swim to safety. Lucey leaped off of the sinking ship and into the water below, for a few seconds they actually came to the surface and managed to swim a few good feet before the ocean swallowed them whole.
He woke up face down upon cold rock. His joints ached, and could feel splashing on his feet. He heaved himself up, no thanks to his now drenched gambeson and bandanna weighing him down. He sputtered a bit after tasting salt, and took off his bandanna to dry it out. He gave it a strong twist and put it back on. He gone away from the shoreline a few feet before composing himself and seeing if anything was lost. Armor? Check. Shield? Sword? Polearm? Dart bag? Check. Cloth Bag? Check. Lucey? ....
Drake gave a grimace before looking back at the ocean before him. Lucey? Lucey?! Where in oblivion is his donkey?? He scanned the waters before seeing what looks like to be her saddle bags floating in the water. He fell to his knees at the thought of his faithful friend having not made it out of the waves like he did. He looked back towards the island and there was no sign of her. He got off of his knees and began heading away from the waves now dreading the thought she might not be somewhere else on the island. But first he needed to group with any other survivors who washed up ashore like he did. He sees a few get up off the rocks and yells over to them. "Aye! You all alright over there?!"
He woke up face down upon cold rock. His joints ached, and could feel splashing on his feet. He heaved himself up, no thanks to his now drenched gambeson and bandanna weighing him down. He sputtered a bit after tasting salt, and took off his bandanna to dry it out. He gave it a strong twist and put it back on. He gone away from the shoreline a few feet before composing himself and seeing if anything was lost. Armor? Check. Shield? Sword? Polearm? Dart bag? Check. Cloth Bag? Check. Lucey? ....
Drake gave a grimace before looking back at the ocean before him. Lucey? Lucey?! Where in oblivion is his donkey?? He scanned the waters before seeing what looks like to be her saddle bags floating in the water. He fell to his knees at the thought of his faithful friend having not made it out of the waves like he did. He looked back towards the island and there was no sign of her. He got off of his knees and began heading away from the waves now dreading the thought she might not be somewhere else on the island. But first he needed to group with any other survivors who washed up ashore like he did. He sees a few get up off the rocks and yells over to them. "Aye! You all alright over there?!"
(Wow, welcome to your first RP!! Honestly none of us would've guessed, so you've got nothing to worry about haha!)
The island seemed to be mostly grey stone, though the moss began vanishing at some point, out of the tides' reach. Thick foliage and even small trees had pushed their way through cracks in the stones. It got denser closer to the center of the island, blocking the opposite end from view.
Joel began pushing himself to his feet, groaning. He had a sudden premonition that this wasn't always this difficult - maybe he'd been lighter at some point. He managed to straighten himself out, swaying dangerously. At the sound of a voice calling out, he whirled his head in that direction, which just made him teeter again. "Goddamnit..." The moss was slippery, too. But he'd manage.
Joel took a confident step forward and immediately fell back onto his face and elbows, crying out.
The island seemed to be mostly grey stone, though the moss began vanishing at some point, out of the tides' reach. Thick foliage and even small trees had pushed their way through cracks in the stones. It got denser closer to the center of the island, blocking the opposite end from view.
Joel began pushing himself to his feet, groaning. He had a sudden premonition that this wasn't always this difficult - maybe he'd been lighter at some point. He managed to straighten himself out, swaying dangerously. At the sound of a voice calling out, he whirled his head in that direction, which just made him teeter again. "Goddamnit..." The moss was slippery, too. But he'd manage.
Joel took a confident step forward and immediately fell back onto his face and elbows, crying out.
Hearing the voice and seeing people stir into action, Rishin glanced over at the origin of the voice, giving a huff as he tried to push himself off the sand. Standing upright, he nearly stumbled again before gaining his balance. With his tail wrapped around his leg to keep it hidden under his cloak, it wasn't doing much to help get him upright, but at least he was standing now rather than feeling the sand stick to his damp body. Narrowing his eyes, it seeemed that a few others had made it alive onto the island as well.
Glancing over to his side, he saw his bow, though quiver emptied and arrows most likely lost to the sea. His dagger sat firmly fastened onto his belt in its small sheath thankfully, and perhaps he'd find some time to fashion more arrows for himself soon. He didn't know what these people were like, after all. Hostility was a virtue for him, and so he stayed wary of the people he saw in the distance.
Still, he hesitantly walked over to the others, eyes flickering about to scan them and his surroundings before settling on the vast expanse of the ocean that spanned past the horizon.
Glancing over to his side, he saw his bow, though quiver emptied and arrows most likely lost to the sea. His dagger sat firmly fastened onto his belt in its small sheath thankfully, and perhaps he'd find some time to fashion more arrows for himself soon. He didn't know what these people were like, after all. Hostility was a virtue for him, and so he stayed wary of the people he saw in the distance.
Still, he hesitantly walked over to the others, eyes flickering about to scan them and his surroundings before settling on the vast expanse of the ocean that spanned past the horizon.
Lupus was a mysterious figure while still on the Ship. Only leaving his quarters at night, and always in a long, hooded cloak. Those who managed to catch some glimpse of him swore his eyes were like that of the devil, glowing a bloody red. He was at the bow when it happened, and he too had lost consciousness.
When he woke, laying on his back on some unknown beach, he found his cloak in tatters, as well as the darkly colored clothes beneath. His long white hair, tied back loosely, was now a tangled, matted mess. With a grunt he flipped to his stomach and pushed himself to his feet, and stood there swaying for a long moment. From under the tatters of the cloak a long, furred golden tail swung into view. A calling voice came to the attention of his pointed ears, and he looked towards the direction. After a moment long of gathering his wits, the strange man started staggering in the direction. If theres anything he learned, in a new place, there is safety in numbers.
When he woke, laying on his back on some unknown beach, he found his cloak in tatters, as well as the darkly colored clothes beneath. His long white hair, tied back loosely, was now a tangled, matted mess. With a grunt he flipped to his stomach and pushed himself to his feet, and stood there swaying for a long moment. From under the tatters of the cloak a long, furred golden tail swung into view. A calling voice came to the attention of his pointed ears, and he looked towards the direction. After a moment long of gathering his wits, the strange man started staggering in the direction. If theres anything he learned, in a new place, there is safety in numbers.
What made Clarre rise in the end wasn't because of the heat, or the uncomfortable position she was in, but the sound of commotion coming from above her head. In all of her misery, the poor girl had forgotten all about other survivors, but she could take them all in, now. They all seemed older than her, and much stronger. Some where already trying to adapt into the leadership role, calling others into groups and attempting to make and maintain peace and order.
Clarre closed her eyes briefly, her pessimistic nature almost overcoming her. It won't matter what they do, she thought, A boat will either be sent for us, or we'll all die together on this island. She was only accepting this more as she took in the scenery: a small island, a rocky beach, a vast ocean. Life there wouldn't be easy. Trying to shake the negative thoughts from her mind, she made her way over to the nearest cluster of people.
Clarre closed her eyes briefly, her pessimistic nature almost overcoming her. It won't matter what they do, she thought, A boat will either be sent for us, or we'll all die together on this island. She was only accepting this more as she took in the scenery: a small island, a rocky beach, a vast ocean. Life there wouldn't be easy. Trying to shake the negative thoughts from her mind, she made her way over to the nearest cluster of people.
Upon hearing a thump and a man crying out, Anton's head swiveled in the direction of the sound. He spun his helmet to face away from him and donned it upon his head. Although it was always a challenge to see through the visors, he had grown accustomed to the feeling, and would rather be prepared. It had saved his life from the wooden beam during the crash, he reasoned with himself.
He rushed up and over a large rock that was obstructing his vision of where the noise had come from. The feat proved difficult in his heavy armor but the only ways around were into the ocean, which he would prefer not to take his chances in again, and into the thick foliage on the other side. As he finished climbing over the rock, he saw a brown skinned man with dark hair, sprawled out on the ground, struggling to regain his footing. Anton slid down the side of the rock towards the mysterious man on the ground and ended up stumbling himself as he hit the mossy rock at the bottom. Now he was laying a mere three or four feet away from the other man. He quickly scrambled to his feet and hoisted up his pollaxe. He thought for a second about whether or not it was wise to so quickly offer help to this unknown man. But after a few moments Anton's friendly nature took control and he spoke up.
"You alright there, sirrah?" he spoke in the heartiest and humored voice he could, while offering his left hand to the man on the ground, his right still tightly gripping his pollaxe.
He rushed up and over a large rock that was obstructing his vision of where the noise had come from. The feat proved difficult in his heavy armor but the only ways around were into the ocean, which he would prefer not to take his chances in again, and into the thick foliage on the other side. As he finished climbing over the rock, he saw a brown skinned man with dark hair, sprawled out on the ground, struggling to regain his footing. Anton slid down the side of the rock towards the mysterious man on the ground and ended up stumbling himself as he hit the mossy rock at the bottom. Now he was laying a mere three or four feet away from the other man. He quickly scrambled to his feet and hoisted up his pollaxe. He thought for a second about whether or not it was wise to so quickly offer help to this unknown man. But after a few moments Anton's friendly nature took control and he spoke up.
"You alright there, sirrah?" he spoke in the heartiest and humored voice he could, while offering his left hand to the man on the ground, his right still tightly gripping his pollaxe.
Rishin might not know enough about the ocean to notice anything odd immediately. The horizon was still and flat and the water pulsed gently to and back from the shore.
Joel heard Anton, in all his armour, coming before he saw him. In an attempt to salvage his long-lost dignity, he managed to get off his hands and onto his knees before the armoured man got near. He pushed dripping hair from his face, making no attempt to disguise his eye, and managed a crooked grin. "Yeah, I'm dandy. A little soggy, but otherwise just... just great." He looked over the offered hand skeptically, but ultimately took it, heaving himself to his feet.
"There's others, aren't there? We're not the only ones?" It was unclear from his tone if he was even hoping for others.
Joel heard Anton, in all his armour, coming before he saw him. In an attempt to salvage his long-lost dignity, he managed to get off his hands and onto his knees before the armoured man got near. He pushed dripping hair from his face, making no attempt to disguise his eye, and managed a crooked grin. "Yeah, I'm dandy. A little soggy, but otherwise just... just great." He looked over the offered hand skeptically, but ultimately took it, heaving himself to his feet.
"There's others, aren't there? We're not the only ones?" It was unclear from his tone if he was even hoping for others.
During his walk Lupus stumbled upon two others. One in heavy armor and the other not.
"Ho there!"
He calls out as he was a small distance away. He raised a gloved hand to the air before pushing some of his white hair from his eyes. He quickly approached them, and when he got them he asked:
"Do you know what happened?"
"Ho there!"
He calls out as he was a small distance away. He raised a gloved hand to the air before pushing some of his white hair from his eyes. He quickly approached them, and when he got them he asked:
"Do you know what happened?"
Nakusha had been unconscious for a while, but she slowly awoke now to distant sounds of what seemed like humans. She slowly rose to her knees, spitting sand out of her mouth before checking herself over. She seemed to mainly have minor scratches and cuts on her body that weren't too bad, but she did have a pretty big gash on her left leg. Tearing a strip of cloth from the bottom of her slightly tattered shirt, she wrapped it tightly around her wound before slowly rising to her feet. She then stumbled off in the direction of the noises, hoping to get there before she collapsed from the pain she was beginning to feel.
Anton glanced over to the approaching man, taking note of his odd appearance and glowing red eyes, certainly different from what he was used to seeing. "What a strange part of the world I'm in" he thought as he observed his new companions.
"Afraid not, friend. One second I'm trying to invent a new way to drink through this helmet, and the next I'm emptying the innards of my stomach on the beach with a dent in the back of my head," Anton said as he removed his helmet and turned it again to examine the damage. He seemed to loosen up but was still a little tense from the situation.
"Afraid not, friend. One second I'm trying to invent a new way to drink through this helmet, and the next I'm emptying the innards of my stomach on the beach with a dent in the back of my head," Anton said as he removed his helmet and turned it again to examine the damage. He seemed to loosen up but was still a little tense from the situation.
As he hesitantly went closer to the small group that had gathered, he could hear their voices more clearly over the dull sloshing of the waves against the shore. The rocks nearby did little to help keep him upright with his aching legs and the near traction-less soles of his boots. It would have been easier for him just to throw the boots off entirely and walk barefoot, as his scales and claws would have done better than what his shoes were doing for him at the moment. Doing his best not to slip, he kept his eyes fixated on them, gaze harsh and wary.
Any normal human, it seemed, wouldn't have survived their watery excursion off course and onto this island. What a pain, he thought, grimacing slightly at the thought of having to stay on this island with so many people. If the ship hadn't sank, then they would have been well on their way to the port, and he would have been safely on the move again, away from the main arms of the Guild. He fared better without people chasing after his hide anyways. Now he was stuck here. The thought of being in the same place for so long made the feeling of discomfort crawl beneath his scales.
More than anything, he wanted to head into the more densely forested area where the trees could provide him some comfort- more comfort than being out in the open like that with no cover for him to hide behind. Glancing towards the direction of the island's center, he saw the trees and shrubbery, knowing fully well that despite the potential dangers that lurked in a foreign environment, he would have felt safer away from these people and by himself. What were they doing congregating anyways? Didn't they have shelter to be finding? Or food to be hunting? They seemed just as clueless as he was in terms of the situation, and so at the moment, they proved to be of little to no use in Rishin's eyes.
If they needed help, however...then he knew that he would have to provide assistance, as grueling as it seemed. Walking towards them, he finally spoke up. "Shelter and food are more important than talking. We can do that later when we're settled."
Any normal human, it seemed, wouldn't have survived their watery excursion off course and onto this island. What a pain, he thought, grimacing slightly at the thought of having to stay on this island with so many people. If the ship hadn't sank, then they would have been well on their way to the port, and he would have been safely on the move again, away from the main arms of the Guild. He fared better without people chasing after his hide anyways. Now he was stuck here. The thought of being in the same place for so long made the feeling of discomfort crawl beneath his scales.
More than anything, he wanted to head into the more densely forested area where the trees could provide him some comfort- more comfort than being out in the open like that with no cover for him to hide behind. Glancing towards the direction of the island's center, he saw the trees and shrubbery, knowing fully well that despite the potential dangers that lurked in a foreign environment, he would have felt safer away from these people and by himself. What were they doing congregating anyways? Didn't they have shelter to be finding? Or food to be hunting? They seemed just as clueless as he was in terms of the situation, and so at the moment, they proved to be of little to no use in Rishin's eyes.
If they needed help, however...then he knew that he would have to provide assistance, as grueling as it seemed. Walking towards them, he finally spoke up. "Shelter and food are more important than talking. We can do that later when we're settled."
Rella the crab was a wily one, that's for sure. She scuttled and danced out of Lemeg's reach for upwards of fifteen minutes before he finally caught her. The crustacean was named for his neighbor when he was growing up. Rella was always cautious and on the move, which made it that much more challenging to steal food from her garden. But Lemeg had managed, just as he now managed to get a hold of his target.
"That was a good show, Rella! It's reassuring to know I picked wisely. The tougher ones are always better." He said, patting the crab soothingly. Then, with as much precision as he could muster, he bashed the poor thing with a rock. It took only one hit, which was good. Rella didn't deserve to suffer. The wound on his thigh had grown considerably worse from the chase, which made the crab's sacrifice that much more important. It had been maybe half an hour since he had woken up, thoroughly dazed and pretty seriously injured. His recollection wasn't perfect (it never really was), but he DID remember the ship going down in a spectacular manner, water and wood and people tossed every which way. He had looked around for his healer's case but didn't find it, unsurprisingly, so all he had were the emergency supplies he kept strapped to his waist. A pestle and mortar, a few roasting papers, and blessed be the gods, some grafting seeds. Prying away the outer shell of our dear departed Rella, Lem sat down and began washing up the carapace along with the seeds and some seawater. He knew it was working from the pleasant crackling of bonding static, a strange phenomenon that occurred during the mixing of magical ingredients. In just a few short moments, he had a nice light red paste. With an expert hand, he scooped out a few globs and spread them on his thigh wound, as well as a few other abrasions. Instantly, the salve began tightening and flatting to bind with his skin. Soon, the wounds were gone, replaced with patches of slightly off-color skin. It wasn't perfect, the skin was too rigid and it carried a dull burn, but for such a quick remedy that was to be expected. With his own personal safety seen to, Lem decided to seek out other survivors. There were bound to be injured among them.
"If anyone needs emergency attention, yell or scream a bit. And if you're already dead, do something spooky. Even ghosts need doctors." He yelled, taking off in the direction of the voices he'd been hearing.
"That was a good show, Rella! It's reassuring to know I picked wisely. The tougher ones are always better." He said, patting the crab soothingly. Then, with as much precision as he could muster, he bashed the poor thing with a rock. It took only one hit, which was good. Rella didn't deserve to suffer. The wound on his thigh had grown considerably worse from the chase, which made the crab's sacrifice that much more important. It had been maybe half an hour since he had woken up, thoroughly dazed and pretty seriously injured. His recollection wasn't perfect (it never really was), but he DID remember the ship going down in a spectacular manner, water and wood and people tossed every which way. He had looked around for his healer's case but didn't find it, unsurprisingly, so all he had were the emergency supplies he kept strapped to his waist. A pestle and mortar, a few roasting papers, and blessed be the gods, some grafting seeds. Prying away the outer shell of our dear departed Rella, Lem sat down and began washing up the carapace along with the seeds and some seawater. He knew it was working from the pleasant crackling of bonding static, a strange phenomenon that occurred during the mixing of magical ingredients. In just a few short moments, he had a nice light red paste. With an expert hand, he scooped out a few globs and spread them on his thigh wound, as well as a few other abrasions. Instantly, the salve began tightening and flatting to bind with his skin. Soon, the wounds were gone, replaced with patches of slightly off-color skin. It wasn't perfect, the skin was too rigid and it carried a dull burn, but for such a quick remedy that was to be expected. With his own personal safety seen to, Lem decided to seek out other survivors. There were bound to be injured among them.
"If anyone needs emergency attention, yell or scream a bit. And if you're already dead, do something spooky. Even ghosts need doctors." He yelled, taking off in the direction of the voices he'd been hearing.
Gabe shuffled slowly through the sand, he winced as the sunlight still hurt his sensitive blue eyes because he had been unconscious for so long, his caramel mocha skin was a bit sensitive and was already getting a little sun burned. He could still hear the echos of the ship wreck last night, the waves, the rushing water. He lost his breath over the memory. He had been trying to escape his father and his family's life of witchcraft. He didn't want to practice dark magic, he was more fond of light magic over the elements of weather. His father was bitterly angry at him for going astray and vowed to sacrifice him, so Gabe fled. It seemed taking a boat was the only way out. Distant voices snapped the memories of the night before out of his head and he looked ahead and brushed his silvery white hair from his face and followed the sound.
His body was weak, he wasn't much of a strong guy, what he lacked in physical strength he made up for in magic. But now he wasn't able to even wield the slightest wind. His sliver cloak shredded and his tight chausses pants still tucked in his boots stuck to him from still being wet. He felt tired as he neared the survivors, all he wanted was some help, the last thing he needed was people being afraid of him if they found out he wielded magic as a mage. As he approached them he called out wearily "H-...HEY! Can someone help m-..." before he could finish his sentence his vision went blurry from exhaustion and he collapsed a few feet from them.
His body was weak, he wasn't much of a strong guy, what he lacked in physical strength he made up for in magic. But now he wasn't able to even wield the slightest wind. His sliver cloak shredded and his tight chausses pants still tucked in his boots stuck to him from still being wet. He felt tired as he neared the survivors, all he wanted was some help, the last thing he needed was people being afraid of him if they found out he wielded magic as a mage. As he approached them he called out wearily "H-...HEY! Can someone help m-..." before he could finish his sentence his vision went blurry from exhaustion and he collapsed a few feet from them.
Ignoring the pretentious Sereg and the voice from afar, Anton made haste over to the weak creature who had just tumbled. It seemed his job today was to help up every fallen boy on the beach. If only he were getting paid. "Damn, the job...Well I don't think the contract will still be open by the time we get out of here," he thought to himself as he reached down with his armored hand and clutched the collar of the fallen boy's clothing behind their neck and lifted them off the ground with one hand, firmly placing him upright and put his hand on the person's shoulder to help balance him out and keep him from falling once more. Once Anton was content he would not fall again, he turned his attention away from the harmless boy and back to the Sereg.
"As much as I don't trust you types, I can't help but agree with you, Sereg," he said with a glare.
"As much as I don't trust you types, I can't help but agree with you, Sereg," he said with a glare.
(Wow, thanks for the turnout everyone!!)
"Now, now," Joel interjected with a high-pitched laugh, "can't you give us a hot second to celebrate being alive. I don't know how often you guys almost drown, but that was at least the third scariest experience of the past two and a half years for me." He pushed his hair back from his face again. He had a thin trail of red blood trickling from his nose from where he'd fallen on his face, but he didn't call out for Lemeg - he hadn't even noticed it.
He was silent for a few seconds, then admitted, "Maybe we should at least set off from these rocks. And, uh, get as far from the water as possible." He'd have to do a headcount - he supposed so many survivors was a good thing, right? Right?
"Now, now," Joel interjected with a high-pitched laugh, "can't you give us a hot second to celebrate being alive. I don't know how often you guys almost drown, but that was at least the third scariest experience of the past two and a half years for me." He pushed his hair back from his face again. He had a thin trail of red blood trickling from his nose from where he'd fallen on his face, but he didn't call out for Lemeg - he hadn't even noticed it.
He was silent for a few seconds, then admitted, "Maybe we should at least set off from these rocks. And, uh, get as far from the water as possible." He'd have to do a headcount - he supposed so many survivors was a good thing, right? Right?
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