"I'm biased," Iomestria says, her smile widening. "They're my beloved family, after all."
His interest piqued by the change of subject, Viorec adds to the chorus. "Yes, Captain, please tell us tales of Sargava!"
Desiona chuckles. "'Tis natural to think of such about your own loving family, should all be well, as well as the dear ones you travel with on life's journey..." she muses.
"I wonder, what if all of us went on an expedition into the jungle together? Wouldn't that be splendid!"
Desiona then turns to the captain again, eyes wide, "Forgive me for interrupting! Please speak captain."
The talk of family takes St. John back to his own and he is quiet for a while. When he speaks it's very earnestly. I've read much about Sargava before leaving, but would love to hear more from someone who's been there. I plan to spread civilization to the savages there as Adabar wills and carve out my own future there. There is much to explore there I hear.
"But don't people already live there?" Iomestria asks, innocently blinking her purple eyes. She looks to Chimalsi. "They do, don't they? If people call any place home, won't they have their own idea of civilization already? I mean, no one goes around saying 'let's not have any rules for our society at all', do they? Not unless they're completely bark-at-the-moon crazy."
Desiona arches a brow at John's mention of savages, though she smiles at the suggestion of exploring.
She nods in approval of Desiona's comment, a sheet of dark hair falling her face, which brushes aside. Such wonderful, endless curiosity... Still, It is strange that the child is not traveling with her family... though she seems uneasy about the subject.
She then turns to John Smyth with her dark blue eyes as deep as mid-night piercing into him, "While civilization may have its merits, we must respect the ultimate whims of Nature. We also must not forget that Desna wills every soul be free." She pauses, and then smiles, her dark eyes glinting, "However, making something of oneself, and exploration, that I fully appreciate!"
Kovack raises his fingers as to say 'give me a second' and finishes his tankard. "Sargava you ask. Where to begin? It's a nation of extremes. The common folk, that would be the various Mwangi tribes, live in a way that make most Avistani frown. You won't find any cities like Westcrown here and the closest thing to a big town is Eleder, but even Eleder is .. different. There's the part where the colonials live, safe within the confines of Eleder's walls, and they embrace the old ways. They look down upon the natives and see them as cheap labour. Honestly, I don't think they could do without them, but I've learned to keep my mouth shut, nod as I sip from the cup of tea I'm offered, and agree with whatever the gentleman happens to be saying. They don't take kindly to those who disagree or question their methods. Not that they're bad people, but when you stand upon the walls of Eleder and look out over the fields of ramshackle huts that sprawl out as far as the eye can see, well, you'll understand why they might feel threatened. They've always been the minority and it is only a matter of time before they lose control."
After all that, he feels like he deserved another tankard o' rum and fills her up. The table guests fire away more questions at him as he enjoys the fiery taste, loving how it sets his lungs on fire. "But Eleder is just a tiny spot on the map of Sargava. Outside of Eleder is where the real fun begins. Plantations, oh so many plantations, surround the city. Here you'll find the more industrial colonials. They watch over entire tribes of enslaved Mwangi who work the fields. Having had a tour on one of Sargava's many pineapple plantations, I can tell you I'd rather hang myself than be forced to harvest pineapples. But if you're really lucky, you'll be working one of the gold, diamond or salt mines. At least you won't make it past fourty. With all these products the Sargavan colonials barely manage to pay the Free Captains of the Shackles for their services. For those who don't know, the Captains make sure the Chelish don't get the grand idea of bringing Sargava back into the fold. I don't know the details 'bout the agreement they made all those years ago, but me thinks that the Sargavans are nothing but an easy cash cow for the Captains. Not that it matters to me, my business is all the same: move cargo and people from A to B. If I can give you one tip, avoid any and all politics and if you do get involved, trust no one. There's a lot of bad blood between all kinds of factions in Sargava and many of them are more than willing to draw blood. Now, my apologies for being a downer, let us get merry once more and drink!"
Slender fingers twirl dark locks as Desiona listens to the captain's story. For a moment her lips are parted as if about to speak, though she remains silent, dark eyes like indigo pools.
Then, she shares her thoughts, "It sounds as if Eleder is not one settlement, but two, one built on the shoulders of another. It reminds me of Magnimar in a way, though I would suspect the Mwangi laborers have it even harder than the Varisians and Shoanti of Magnimar." Untwirling her tress, she tilts her head as if hearing a distant sound, "Tell me captain, what gods are honored in Eleder?"
"By the colonials? Iomedae is the most important god they worship. The baron, the highest authority in all of Sargava, is a devotee of the Light of the Sword. Aroden used to be popular, but you know how that story goes. Abadar and Shelyn are also held in high regard by the colonials. As for the locals, they worship Gozreh, Desna Abadar, aspects of Gorum and local spirits and powers. Iomedae also has native followers, but expect to see images of a fierce ebony warrior-princess holding a stretched-hide shield instead of the pale sword virgin we think of when we hear Iomedae. You best leave the natives to their own religious practices .. many have tried, many have failed. There are many gruesome stories that can be told about missionaries who came to Sargava with good intentions but ended up dying in ways that would definitely please the wicked Lord of Hell."
Desiona gasps, and makes the same sign as earlier at the mention of the wicked Lord of Hell. She then sighs, dark lips trembling, and lowers her gaze slightly. "What you describe I imagine must only be the surface of the conflict between colonists and natives. While the thought of such animosity makes me tremble, I understand that so many of the people native to Sargava were forced into labor, and then the colonists tell them how to relate to the gods? It would be infuriating, no?" She turns a glance at Chimalsi, "This is especially so since the natives must know the jungle and its gods better, don't you agree my friend?"
After a pause, Desiona takes a deep breath and a sip of rum, chased by water, "Ah..." and then returns her gaze at the captain again. "And yet, the colonists honor gods with good names... but is not Iomedae a goddess of war? - Against demons, no? I can respect the goddess as a demon huntress, but what are they crusading against in the jungle? Do they believe there are many demons hiding in the rain forest?" Before she receives an answer, she places her hand on the rum glass again, seeming to contemplate the drink. She leaves the glass where it is, looking up, eyes slightly narrowed, "It is also troubles me that the colonists have not apparently thought of paying respects to Gozreh themselves, being so near the jungle, a splendid expanse of Nature! Or to Desna, since they are travelers far from home... Perhaps it is they who truly need to be educated on spiritual matters!" Eyes widening, she nods. "You were right to warn us to be cautious. It seems that things are complex where we are going, and there is much to contemplate... Tonight, though, I agree that we should keep the mood merry." She smiles pleasantly, turning the rum glass round on the table.
Still, she looks around the table, with arched brows and an inquisitive smile, just in case any of her new friends have anything to say on the recent discussion.
Viorec smiles, realizing that Sargava sounds like an excellent opportunity for a man of his skills. As long as he can stay a step or two away from direct conflict between sides.
"As my family says, 'Fortuna favorizează îndrăzneț!' Eleder sounds like a place of promising opportunity."
"Hm, hm," Iomestria hums. "Well - it is a scary subject, but - hm - "it is better to be forewarned and forearmed", yes? If there are scary things in the jungle, then we'll be better off knowing in advance."
Desiona nods solemnly at the Sczarni saying, yet with a twinkle in her eye. She looks pensive on Iomestria's comment as well. "Poveștile noastre spun adevărul. We all say truth. Opportunity and danger await us alike my friends! It is all so exciting!"
She suddenly looks just a little sad. "It has been a pleasure to share a voyage with you Viorec, my friend from Magnimar, and it has been a pleasure getting to know all of you, my fellow travelers! It saddens me somewhat that our journey is at end." She looks at the sick gnome, and smiles apologetically, "Though perhaps not so for all."
She pauses with fingers on her lips for a moment again, and then says, "What I want to say is, while some of us may have the chance to work together when we land, it seems some of us are traveling for their individual purposes. Even so, I hope- that our paths shall cross again."
She then smiles with a mysterious, knowing expression in her eyes, "I have a feeling this may be so, in some way or another."
The night saw to it that the barrel of rum was no more. Telling stories and weaving tales takes its toll on the tongue and many a tankard was emptied before the light of day crept back into the world. For some the next day was announced by a heavy throbbing in the head and a storm creating waves in the ocean of alcohol inside their tummies, for others it was just another day. A light drizzle harrassed the Jenivere and it wasn't until the late afternoon that the travelers could bask in the warm Garundi sun once again. Two more days went by before the captain invited some of his guests over for dinner again. This time he had a real treat for them: pickled owlbear! The story behind the meat was that of a gnomish entrepeneur who had hoped that pickled exotic meats would be a great niche market. Alas, the market wasn't quite ready for his visionary product.
Captain Kovack, Ieana, Arrasti, sir Aberwhinge and our six intrepid adventurers feasted on the surprisingly taste and succulent delicacy before moving on to yet another night of making merry and honoring Desna by sharing stories of the past and dreams of the future while traveling underneath the stars. Aberwhinge raised his finger to interrupt Arrasti during one of his lectures on the benefits of slavery when something strange happened. The gnome's head tilted to the side as his eyes rode unseen waves, circling around, before the man crashed forward onto the table. Arrasti stood up, his expression one of a flabbergasted man, and Kovack raised himself to see what was going on when Desiona and Iomestria collapsed. Davy let go a surprised gasp, but his tongue refused to cooperate when he tried to ask what was going on. The man's slurred speech followed him as he went down, St. John Smythe and Chimalsi exchanging surprised looks. Vicious claws sank into the soft flesh of their tummies and clawed their way up to their bodies until an unbearable pressure rocked against their temples, knocking the men out cold.
A Varisian gypsy watched it all play out in front of him. Arms and fingers refused to answer the call of his mind and the last thing he remembers are Ieana's eyes focusing on him. The woman seemed awfully clear-headed as she got up from her seat. A hand reached for Kovack and then pushed the man out of his seat, his limp body crashing onto the wooden floor. The world twisted and turned as impossibly deep eyes pulled Viorec's mind into an ocean of emotions that assaulted his senses. "You did not see this" she said in what was almost a hiss and with that, the light in his world died.
------
What followed was a rude awakening. Your lips are parch dry and everything tastes like salt. A pounding headache is hammering away at what remains of your brain. The sun burns on your body, but it takes a moment before your senses manage to team up and bring you back to reality. Unluckily for some of you, a few hapless creatures have mistaken you for being dead and are picking away at your bodies: they are sea scorpions, small crustaceans with vicious poisonous stingers! Around you lay more people, among them Ishirou and Gelik Aberwhinge.
A map of the beach the six unlucky travelers find themselves waking up at.
St. John would not be so gauche as to wear armor and weapon to a dinner on board. He shakes the cobwebs out of his head and grabs a club and stands.
Groaning, Chimalsi staggers to his feet.
"Wha-? That must have been some night! Where the heck are we?"
Seeing the sea-scorpions picking over the party members, Chimalsi quickly staggers to his feet, and picks-up a club.
*Cough! Cough!* Ayaagh! *Cough* What is- ow! Ouch! What is- going on! Ayieee! Get away from me! I'm alive!"
As she thought she was traveling safely to a warm environment, Desiona wore no armor the previous evening. The tattered remains of her skirt cling to round hips and lean thighs. The rest of her garment is like-wise torn and wet, and provides only modest coverage and no protection.
Being awoken by the sudden stabbing pain, and swirl of sensations, cold, wet, sun and crashing waves, Desiona's reaction is slow. She eventually attempts to stumble to her feet while brushing away the sea-scorpion's claws.
Davy wakes up to a stinging sensation on his jaw. He instinctively slaps the insect off his face and rolls on the sand to get away from the creature, swearing "Holy c***!" He then jumps to his feet and runs his hands around his waist, trying to find the dagger he usually carries around.
-
The hollow boom of the surf starts to ull Iomestria out of confused dreams where dragons and sea serpents chase her through an endless wine cellar, shouting at her because she didn't finish her rum. Desiona's high-pitched shriek brings her all the way awake.
"Wh - what...?" Iomestria stammers as she starts to raise herself on her elbows, confused to see the open sky overhead and find a sandy beach beneath her -- and some of it inside her clothes -- instead of a roof and a snug bed. The sun blasts through her eyes into her pounding head, and she whimpers with the pain. Raising a hand to shield her eyes, she notices her long, lacey sleeves have been torn, revealing the daggers strapped to her lower arms. 'Mama would be furious to see me being so brazen with weapons,' she thinks.
Then she realizes what is happening, and years of training slide into place. Ice flows through Iomestria's brain and veins, and she thrusts out a single hand in Desiona's direction without getting up, her eyes narrowed to slits. "Simul clamo, simul moris," the girl chants -- and a hideous keening sets up inside the skull of the Eurypterid attempting to sting the Varisian woman! A shrieking only it can hear...
St. John would not be so gauche as to wear armor and weapon to a dinner on board.
"Ugh." *Cough!* "Pthhhlugh!" *Gurgle* *Gasp! *Cough! Cough!* "Ceea ce în groapă?!"
A small wave washes over Viorec as he wakes up face-down in the sand of an unfamiliar beach. He feels the oppressive tropical sun beat on the back of his exposed neck and upper arms. Spitting fine sand from his mouth, he looks around and is startled by the bizarre crustacean waving its pincers just before his face.
"Prin zei!! Reefclaws!" He fumbles for the dagger he keeps strapped to his left forearm, pulls it, and strikes at the oversized lobster in front of him.
Rolling away from the giant crab-thing, and keeping it at bay with his dagger, he stands up.
Once on his feet he glances around to take in the scene.
"Curvă lui Calistria! Ce sa întâmplat?"
...
"Simul clamo, simul moris," the girl chants -- and a hideous keening sets up inside the skull of the Eurypterid attempting to sting the Varisian woman! A shrieking only it can hear...
The waves crash down onto the beach, bringing with it wreckage from what used to be the Jenivere, as three - nay, two eurypterids fight for their right to feast on the delicious soft flesh of the shipwrecked individuals. Viorec rammed down the sharp tip of his dagger into the skull of one the creatures, his hand guiding the steel in a perfect arc before it ended the eurypterid's culinary aspirations. A second eurypterid experienced why it is a bad idea to mess with capable individuals as a sonic burst overwhelmed his senses. Dazed and confused he stands next to Desiona, his claws snapping away at thin air. The third eurypterid follows his elusive half-orc prey, an exotic delicacy in these parts, and snaps at him with his claws and stinger. The archaeologist deftly jumps to the right and then to the left, dodging the creature's claws, but then felt a sharp pain spread through his leg: the stinger had managed to connect with his right foot. Luckily for him, the wet sand that caked to his feet somehow soaked up the creature's venom.
Iomestria struggles to her feet and directs her magic at the sea scorpion attacking Davy. "Simul clamo, simul moris! Someone hit the one I stunned, the magic won't last long!"
The woman with the fire-touched hair invokes arcane wrath upon the euryptid through word, gesture and the power of her blood. The hard outer body resists the battering sonic forces, but the creature's innards cannot withstand the violence. The thing drops onto the floor, its claws spastically snapping at the sand until it moves no more.
Desiona nimbly skips five feet away from the threatening sea-scorpion.
"Copil de la Mare, vă este foame pentru trupul meu, acum gusta lumina mea!" She shrieks menacingly at the creature.
Her eyes flash with cobalt radiance as her hand held aloft crackles with energy. Pointing two fingers of her left hand at the creature, lightning arcs from fingers toward the creature in a deadly flash.
Seeing Desiona threatened by another "reefclaw," Viorec runs over to it, getting behind it, such that the crustacean is between himself and his Varisian friend. He then plunges his dagger into its shell...
...but the chitinous shell of the creature's back deflects the blade.
"Voi face tocană de pește din tine!"
Davy finally finds his dagger and unsheathes the weapon, with the blade pointing down. Dancing in front of the scorpion-like sea bug, he studies the creature while dodging, waiting for an opening to strike. He aims for the brain and brings the dagger down on the creature's head. "Let's see how like it!"
Seeing the damsel in distress St. John charges at the beast with his club waving his free hand wildly and yelling This way you bloody creature! It's not cricket to attack a defenseless woman!
Chimalsi moves for a flank on the remaining bug, and takes a swing!
Lightning crackles, but the nimble eurypterid manages to somehow avoid the stroke of lightning as it comes crashing down at it. The nimble thing also manages to avoid Viorec's dagger, its tip dripping with the ichor of his brother from another eurypterid mother. Sadly, the creature doesn't stand a chance against Davy's assault and the archaeologists repeated thrusts eventually find its way through the crustacean's shell, ending its life.
The adrenaline of having to fight for your life still surges through your system, but the combat has been won: the local wildlife has been defeated, tonight's meal has been secured and the wreckage of the Jenivere surrounds you. Overhead, the sun smiles down upon the shipwrecked and you know that its fiery tendrils will lash at you if you do not make or find a shelter. To the south looms a veritable green wall: the flora on this island has never been tamed and a jungle stares right back at you. The beach itself is located at the end of a tiny bay, the rugged rocky coastal line hugging it on both sides before it runs off to the west and east. Underneath you is sand, the fine sand that graces the beaches of your dreams. Your tummies growl and protest at the food they still have to process, having troubles with what surely must've been a poisoned meal.
But you're not alone on the beach. A collection of individuals lay shattered about on the sand. A deep track tells you that someone must've dragged a rowboat of sorts onto the shore, but the boat itself is nowhere to be seen. Among the individuals are the gnome Gelik, Ishirou the Tian and three others they hadn't met before: two women, a red-head and a brunette, faces they had seen before on the ship, but the third was a Garundi man wearing the ragged remains of prisoner's clothing and manacles that bind his wrists behind his back. All five are unconscious, for now.
Chimalsi breathes a sigh of relief when the last creature goes down.
"Does anyone know where we are?"
He then sets about searching the wreckage for anything useful...
St. John puts some thought into Chimalsi's question while he tries to scavenge what he can from the debris from the wreck. Look and see if there is anything else useful from the debris. We'll need all we can gather to survive.
Desiona breaths deep to catch her breath. She looks to her friends and fellow survivors with an expression of gratitude. Then suddenly with a sigh, she falls to her knees, looking up with the sun shining on her angular face making her eyes look bluish-lavender in color.
She looks to the coast, and the great expanse of shimmering blue, and to the wall of green on the other side as she pulls some sea weed out of her hair.
She hears Chimalsi's question, and repeats it to herself in Varisian, "În cazul în care în lume este aichi?"
And she answers herself in Elvish.
"Välinen loputon vesi ja verhon vihreä"
Catching her breath and shifting from her knees to a cross legged position, she studies the coastline for a moment. She gasps, and leaps to her feat, turning and looking at the woodlands.
Desiona cries out in Taldane, "I think, I think I know where we are!"
Davy looks around and analyzes the landscape under different criteria hoping to pinpoint their location. He tries to remember their last known position and, taking the landscape into account, proclaims with certain confidence "Pinch me if this ain't Smuggler's Shiv."
"Yes! We are in Smuggler's Shiv!" Desiona confirms Davy's proclamation. Then turning from her friends who are up and well, she begins to check the conditions of each the unconscious people washed up on the beach, beginning with Gelik, then the women, and then Ishirou.
"What is Smuggler's Shiv?" Iomestria asks, looking in confusion from one person to another. Then she glumly looks at her legs. "Oh, confoundment! I appear to have lost a shoe. Mama would be terribly wroth..." Indeed, one of the girl's feet is bared of boot, and her silk stocking is already sporting holes...
"It's an island in the bay of Eleder", Davy replies turning to Iomestria. He places one hand on his hip and the other over his eyes, looking to the horizon. "We're just off the Sargavan coast... good news is that it's on the maps, so sooner or later some ship will pass by. Bad news is, it'll probably be pirates", he says making a grimace. Davy then turns around and goes after Desiona to check on the unconscious survivors, inciting Iomestria to follow him. "Let's go, kiddo, let'come help the others and later we can chat about the shipwreck..."
He kneels by Gelik's side and watches Desiona perform first aid. He tries to copy her movements, but his healing efforts pretty much come down to repeatedly slapping the gnome's face while saying "C'mon, wake up! Wake up!"
After working on one of the unconscious brunette, Desiona places a slender hand on her own forehead, sighing from the heat.
She turns to Davy and Iomestria, having heard most of their conversation. "We have more worries than the looming threat of pirates, my dears. Our more immediate trouble is this sun! We should be take shelter beneath the trees as soon as we can. Iomestria, can you also help us revive some of the other survivors?" She looks up at around to see where Viorec and the others are, "Viorec, Am nevoie de ajutorul tău prea, prietenul meu! If we can get everyone moving, we can seek shelter faster."
The woman then grimaces, placing her hand on her bare, flat mid-drift. "Oh, and I do believe some poison is still in me as well. I'd guess it is the same for all of us. Let's move quickly!"
Desiona breaths deep to calm her churning tummy, and then returns to trying to revive the other survivors.
Iomestria clambers to her feet, looks at the Davy and Desiona in an earnest sort of way -- and then runs for the sea. Cupping some water in her hands, the redheaded girl runs back and forth between sea and shore, spattering the faces of the unconscious people with salt water to wake them -- with one exception.
Iomestria pauses when she sees the chained Garundi, and cocks her head inquisitively. "Now who is this?" she asks out loud. "I don't remember seeing him before..." Her head whips around to Desiona. "Poison. You're poisoned. Yes! Um. If, if I could just find my things, I have a bottle of antitoxin..."
Your tummies growl and protest at the food they still have to process, having troubles with what surely must've been a poisoned meal.
Viorec breathes a sigh of relief after the last weird-looking "reefclaw" is slain. As his fight-or-flight reflexes calm, and he recognized the danger of being marooned, fear sets in, although his face does not betray this.
"Is everyone all right?" he calls out. Looking around the beach, he sees Iomestria, Desonia, Davy, Smythe, and Chimalsi all up, and then he notices unconscius forms of Gelik, Ishoru, the two strange women, and the Garundi prisoner.
As the adrenaline ebbs, he too feels the aftereffects of the knockout poison. He then makes a quick check of his person to see what belongings he has on him...
Let's see... I have my three daggers... my slim case of lockpicks are still in my belt pouch... as is my box of tindertwigs, though they'll be soggy and useless for a while... and my money, fat lot of good it'll do me on a godsforsaken island... and thank the gods, my hip flask! Not that whiskey would be welcome just yet. I hope the rest of my stuff shows up...
He then walks over to the unconscious forms of the two unfamiliar women. I think I've seen them on the ship...
He does his best to try to revive them... which pretty much consists of shaking their shoulders and saying, "Hey! Wake up!"
A Varisian gypsy watched it all play out in front of him. Arms and fingers refused to answer the call of his mind and the last thing he remembers are Ieana's eyes focusing on him. The woman seemed awfully clear-headed as she got up from her seat. A hand reached for Kovack and then pushed the man out of his seat, his limp body crashing onto the wooden floor. The world twisted and turned as impossibly deep eyes pulled Viorec's mind into an ocean of emotions that assaulted his senses. "You did not see this" she said in what was almost a hiss and with that, the light in his world died.
After scavenging the beach for any gear among the debris from the Jenivere, St. John looks at the boats track. He searches for any tracks from the people getting out of the boat.
I'm on some gods forsaken island with a bunch of foreigners. Great! Adabar why am I tested so? Yeah, Yeah. I know. Bring civilization to these savages. And it isn't much more savage than this island.
When Viorec calls out, St. John looks up and answers, "I'm fine. Searching though the debris for anything useful and wondering about this boat that was on shore here."
"Ah, anti-toxin! That would work wonders now- and that reminds me, mama made sure I had a brand new healer's kit with me before I embarked..."
She looks up and sees Chimalsi and St. John searching through the debris.
"Chimalsi, John, my dears! Have you found any of our things amid the debris? Have you seen a finely woven back-pack, with the Spheres woven on the back?"
Desiona returns to her work with the people at the moment. She would have by now carefully dragged each person out of the water and checked to see if each is breathing. For those who are not awakened by the water in face, slaps, or shakes, she pumps their chests and gives mouth to mouth if needed.
"Be gentle with the gnome Davy! ...He was sick before the wreck... Careful Viorec! If they begin to cough- anything up, turn them on the their sides." She says, hands on hips, with an admonishing expression. She then turns her attention to the strangers.
"There are three I do not know. These women, look familiar, but this poor man... you are right, Iomestria, I too have never seen him before..." She pauses a moment to look at his torn attire and shackles. "He appears to be a prisoner of some sort - or perhaps a slave? Maybe he was dropped from another ship?"
She grimaces a again, placing a hand on her abdomen. "Perhaps you should seek out your anti-toxin, darling. Do you- not feel the effects of the poison as well? I remember- we all were collapsing that night. Oh, it is all so foggy!"
Moving over to the Garundi prisoner, Viorec checks to make sure he's alive.
"This man was probably a slave. Even if he was a prisoner, I say we need all the help we can get, and give him the benefit of the doubt. I'm going to remove his irons."
Viroec takes out a slim leather case from a pocket in his vest. He unbuttons the flap, and turns it upside-down to let the seawater drip out. He then opens it up, setting on the sand in the sun to let it dry out. Inside the case are a number of odd-looking tools of metal and wood. Viorec examines the unconscious man's irons, selects a tool, and then goes to work undoing them.
"I only have the one bottle," Iomestria says, apologetically, to Desiona. "Since there's a jungle... maybe we should keep it in reserve? Is it's still here? I think the ick that was in our food wears off with movement; I certainly feel better now..."
The redheaded girl blinks at Viorec, and slowly nods at his words. She runs/hobbles off to the shoreline again, returning with a double handful of seawater to splash on the Garundi's face to wake him.