102 replies to this topic

[currymaniac]

The waves crashed up onto the sandy shore of the Isla de las Profundidades, slowly receding from where, an hour earlier it had washed up the remnants of the crew of the Ascension, which, had ironically enough, descended to the depths of the sea. Driftwood lay up on different parts of the beach along with the crew members and a few bits of the soaked wood sometimes went in and out with the tide.

Astride a barrel the captain of the Ascension lay upon the shore, not too far away from the palm trees that lined the edge of the sand and the start of the soil. Sand and salt water had clogged his eyes closed and he was wheezing softly. Up along the beach other crew members lay, some stirring from the nightmare that had been the storm.

The storm itself had passed with the destruction of the ship it seemed, leaving the night sky clear and allowing the crescent moon to rule over the land until the sun arose to take its place. The wind which had brought the storm and taken it away in such a hurry had also gone, leaving only a small breeze which rustled the leaves of the trees.

[Gryffydd65]

Steffan pushed himself up from the sand, he looked around, the weight of his wet clothes hanging heavy on his arms, back and legs. He stripped the shirt off and checked himself for wounds, his back ached as he moved his left arm behind him. Trying to feel for any open cuts, he felt none, but the pain was unbearable. He crawled towards the trees, clutching his shirt as he went. He saw the remains of others, so alive, some dead. He knew if he could reach a tree, he could haul himself up.

[Dehoffren]

Arturo slowly became aware of the soft lapping of water on the soles of his feet, consciousness was evading his mind by increments and movement was returning to his limbs. Laying face first on the beach, he flicked his eyes open but all he could see was a mirade of tiny grains and in his mouth all that could be tasted was salt. Instinct pushed the man to move but all that greeted his effort was assorted aches and pains. Taking things a little more gently he raised himself to his hands and knees, still with his head hung down Arturo could now see a mirror image indentation of himself in the sand. He was unable to study the picture for long as the previously ingested water heaved from stomach with a series of gut wrenching groans.

Leaning back onto his knees Arturo puffed his flabby cheeks in and out for a couple of seconds trying to regain his composure. Swallowing heavily his eyes travelled to his left and right. It appeared that some of his companions had been washed ashore like himself "Thank the heavens" he said out loud and clambered to an up right position and went to the first body to his right " Are you alright son?" he whispered as he gently shook the prone figure not recognising the fellow at all

[Mercenary_Leader]

Finn slowly regained consciousness and became aware of his surrounding. He got up slowy and examined his body for wounds finding none he tanked the gods.He looked around it seemed that several others had survived as well thats good at least he wasn't the only survivor. Having learned some skill in medicine he went to see if any of the others needed his help.

He wondered what he would find on this island treasure, ancient ruins and other amazing things? He hope to go out exploring soon but he mourned the lost of his equipement he would have to fabricate some or find some on the island a difficult task.

Well first thing is first better help the others before making plans to go exploring, he coudn't just leave them here.

[quizzical]

*So this is what drowning feels like ... I thought it'd be more peaceful and less painful* thought Quarion. Then he realized that the fire in his nose, throat, and lungs was sea water residue. Coughing and heaving brought him fully to consciousness and brought back memories of the storm, the boat smashing to smithereens, trying to hold onto a plank while being smashed against some rocks. He gratefully noticed that he was laying on his belly and that his breathing was easier when his face was not buried in the sand. He risked curling into a fetal position and found it tolerable. Such success encouraged Quarion to open his eyes and look around ... quite a few bodies, some of them moving, plenty of flotsam but a dearth of jetsam... or may be the reverse ... was that a joke ...not thinking too clearly... terrible headache!! ... cold on the beach at night... wet and cold and on the beach. This was bad indeed.

Quarion determined that his fingers arms and shoulders were all present and in working order. Clothing seemed to have survived more or less, thankfully, as he had nothing else. He put his head back on the sand and drifted back to sleep...

[Dehoffren]

Arturo had to admit that no matter how much prodding and poking he done, the poor wretch in front of him was not going to react. The archaeologist pushed his spectacles up to his forehead in frustration; it was a miracle that he still possessed the item after the storm. As he peered at the life less form he noticed that a hand sized piece of wood jutted out of the youth’s body just below the rib cage. Arturo had never been able to deal with the loss of life very well, and even though he didn’t know the salt soaked fellow his heart was full of sorrow.

Backing away from the life less form he unsteadily got to his feet, his stomach still lurching from the sight before him. The sand squelched up in between his toes as he headed for the figures that were showing signs of movement

[Ghost]

"Ooof! Watch where yer going!" Eldrid hissed as Arturo backed into him, sending the scawny man on his arse. He had just waded in from the sea on not-too-steady legs, and now that he was on his back he didn't really feel like getting back up. "Two people moving around on this damned beach and you manage to walk into me? Seems those glasses aren't doing you much good..." Sighing, Eldrid shut his eyes. It'd be nice if he could just fall asleep, and dream that all this was just a nightmare. Fat chance of that happening, of course...

Edited by Ghost, 30 April 2008 - 10:51 PM.

[Tyrion]

Scurvy started to come round to the lapping of waves upon his feet. Gentle. Melodic. Relaxing. The sun beat down warm upon his face. The sand beneath him was as comfortable as any bed had ever been. He lay there without a care in the world wearing a beatific smile, pure and innocent, unlike any expression he'd ever worn whilst conscious. He was having a wonderful dream of carefree living and fluffy clouds. The complete antithesis of the mad chilling fight for survival to avoid a watery doom last night. Oh why did real-life have to intrude. Was he alive? His hands jutted out and patted himself and the shredded remains of his clothing down. He felt alive. He tried to move and groaned. His poor battered and bruised body confirmed it. He was definitely alive. Haphazard jumbled memories of the sinking ship washed over him with the ferocity of a tidal wave. The claustrophobia. The dark. Seawater unbidden swallowed down to the point oh so many times where he thought he was going to drown. Frantic gulps for air. Somehow, someway, without a clue, he had survived. He was alive! But now where was he? With great reluctance Scurvy opened his eyes.

[Dehoffren]

Arturo pirouetted around with grace that was not befitting a man of his size “So sorry old chap” Grabbing the man’s hand, Arturo hauled him back to his feet and then began to pump in up and down. A large smile beamed at the man “smashing to see another person, alas that poor soul over there didn’t make it.” Still holding on to the man’s hand Arturo introduced himself “Arturo T Remis IV or Arty to my friends at your service”

[Gryffydd65]

Steffan saw movement from farther down the beach, it seems he had washed ashore some forty or so yards away. He pushed himself from away from the palm tree and stumbled his way towards the two figures that were shaking hands or something else. As he got closer, he manuevered his way around bodies so obviously dead that a blind man could tell, deep gashes, wooden splinters the size of his hand sticking out of the neck of another. He wondered how many others survived, of course he had no idea how many were on the ship to begin with.

[Ghost]

Yanking his hand violently from Arturo's grip, Eldrid spat: "He didn't make it? None of us made it, you oaf! We're all still treading water here. There is no land out here, so we are stuck - shipless - on an island to which no map leads. Our only chance to see civilization ever again, is if greed has made the fisherman who sold the island's position to the captain sell it again, and that another party is already on the way. And even then, our survival hinges on whether or not the sailors that arrive do not kill us outright because they do not want to share the treaure with us."

In the light of the cresent moon, Eldrid gave Arturo a wry smile, which was more a grimace than anything, and said: "So - 'Arty'... You will forgive if Eldrid D'Jean doesn't dance a friggin' jig to celebrate his luck..."

With that, he turned and began looking for a weapon of sort, checking the various bodies on the beach. If there were few weapons left, whoever had one would be important. Eldrid liked being important.

Edited by Ghost, 01 May 2008 - 02:39 PM.

[Dehoffren]

Arturo was a little taken aback by the Eldrid’s hostile reaction but it did not hinder his natural joviality “There, there dear chap, Mother Nature bounty will keep us going. As for rescuing, something will turn up it always does, anyway it gives us chance to explore this fantastic island. My word I haven't been so excited for years, it will be like one of those pirate adventure that you imagine when you are a boy”

Edited by Dehoffren, 01 May 2008 - 03:08 PM.

[currymaniac]

As Eldrid rolled the lifeless bodies up and down the beach he found nothing that remained useable. There were a couple of splinters and sticks that might possibly be able to be used as a weapon, but other than that there was nothing.

The captain slowly got off of the barrel he had washed up on, falling to the sandy ground beneath. Coughing with a mouth full of sand he slowly turned around, rubbing his eyes due to the irritation the salt was causing him. He slowly looked around through groggy eyes, his breathing wheezey and stunted. "Hoist the main sail," he whispered, perhaps stll imagining himself aboard his ship. He moved his hand as if to draw a sword, his hand closing around the imaginary hilt and held it out in front of himself. "You'll not have my ship!" he called out, much louder this time.

[Tyrion]

Scurvy pulled himself to his bare feet and stood swaying slightly in the sun. He could see others alive and dead scattered along the beach amongst the various flotsam and jetsam. First things first he thought to himself, he needed a drink. Medicinal purposes obviously. Rum would do. He started to poke amongst the debris washed up along the shore.

[ May 1, 2008, 5:48 pm ] - Tyrion rolled 1d20 ± 6 and obtained 22 ( 16 ). Reason : search booze.

[currymaniac]

Scurvy found some bottles, but devoid of alcohol they were, all that was in them now was a mixture of seawater and sand. makes you wonder why the rum is always gone....