Kazok still isn't accustomed to the turmoil of the sea ; his last meal now feeds the fishes. He has been waiting eagerly for dinner to be served and he has troubles staying in line to get his share. The mundane offering does not bother him as much as the quantity. On his first day aboard, it was explained very clearly to him that food was available in limited supply and that there could not be exceptions for those who ate more than the others, lest they run out of food before the next port.
After what seems like hours, the barbarian gets his bowl filled with fish stew and makes his way to the galley. "These humans should really think about other races when they build their ships," he thinks as he bows down to pass through the door to the galley which is about a foot to low for him. He scans briefly the room, looking for a space to sit and he decides on a table near the back where he recognizes several members of the crew. In his experience, they are usually the most accepting towards mongrels of his sort.
"Good meal after long day." He flashes his toothy grin at those seated at the table and starts eating enthusiastically.
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A large and composed human is a late arrival to the mess hall once everyone is already sitting. The cook seems to have been expecting him though, as they hand him a dinner that was being saved behind the counter.
The man is ignored by his fellow crew members and some of the passengers that have been on for awhile, but the newer passengers have a hard time adverting there eyes from the hulking man covered in tribal skeleton tattoos. He is shirtless and glistening in sweat, and since by now almost everyone has seen him exercising while working up on the rigging, most can assume it was another grueling workout that made him late. There were a few whispers, "..he's almost as big as that monstrous half-orc,..." that can be heard. Nothing shakes his concentration though and he takes the first empty seat he comes across, which oddly happens to be in the back of the hall.
He deftly moves into the undersized chair and begins to eat quietly. He keeps to himself and for the most part the crew members leave him alone as well. Except for the jackass Dean Smothers. "Cold slop tasting good today, Rateliff?" Dean starts after the man with a grin on his face and some of his cronies chuckling, but this Rateliff doesn't even reply and everyone goes on with their meals.
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After several days stowed away in the cargo hold of the Jenivere, awash in the strong smell of fish stew that makes his hunger rumble, Apollyon can no longer stomach another serving of stale bread and dry leathery meat. He is sure that the meat in his trail rations has come from an old horse, and he is only able to tear it with his teeth after it’s soaked in a small pot of lukewarm water for an hour or more.
Apollyon has come to the belief, however unwise, that a warm meal would be worth whatever punishment awaits him for boarding the Jenivere illegally. He’s prepared to pay his way, if necessary, but knows it is just as likely that he be thrown overboard. “I’d deserve it, too,” he thinks, “and I might even prefer it.”
The wooden stairs leading up from the cargo hold scream at Apollyon as he creeps up them. With his hood up to conceal his face and silver hair, he opens the wood door that separates the cargo hold from the kitchen. When his eyes adjust to the light, he sees the ship’s cook staring back at him. A large metal pot soaks in a sink full of soapy water before him. The cook stands motionless and says nothing.
“I, uh, would like a bowl of fish stew,” says Apollyon with the most casual voice he can muster.
“Sorry, lad, it’s all eaten up. I’ve still got bread if you’ve a taste for it. Stale as stone, but it will fill you up.”
For a long moment Apollyon thinks about retreating, defeated, back into the cargo hold. He decides instead to stretch his legs and make his way into the galley, where he sits down with a hungry sigh.
As chance would have it, Wes was early at the mess hall. Not really eager for the food, he knew he needed nourishment. I can't just eat my rations all the time. Hmm, too bad I didn't take more berries with me...
His contemplation was cut short by a voice: "Hey, wake up! Do you want to eat or not?" The cook was looking sternly at him from across the counter. Murmur could be heard behind him. Wes extended his hands, took the bowl and roll, then moved away, ignoring the impatient travellers.
There were still plenty of empty chairs, even tables, but Wes turned and went straight for the door. By now he knew he had to see the wobbling horizon to have a chance to retain the food within him. He sat on a crate near the starboard side of the ship and fixed his gaze at the sea, eating a bit of the stew now and then.
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Rateliff finishes his meal, cleans his spot at the table, and buses his dishes to the kitchen. There the chef mentions an odd Elf coming from the pantry. Rateliff nods and replies, "Yes, as there will always be." Then leaves the mess hall for the ship deck to climb into the crows nest and meditate.
The chef shakes his head and sighs as Rateliff leaves. Such the serious type, no time for gossip.
On the deck, if the crows nest is occupied Rateliff finds a place that is secluded.
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From under his hood, Apollyon watches Dean Smothers pace around the mess hall as he goes from table to table to assert his dominance over the quieter and less-imposing passengers and crew alike.
Funny, he passed right by the Half-Orc.
Most people seem to be trying their best to ignore him, but Apollyon seethes as he watches.
He reminds me of Gawain. I wonder what he’s got in those pockets.
As he ate his meal loudly, Kazok scanned the tables and their occupants. He recognized everyone, as he had been watching from the back of the room since he had embarked in the Shackles, except a pale-haired elf and his gaze lingered on the new passenger slightly longer. "Ha! Another elf that cannot eat because of sea-ache. Weakling."
When Maxwell, having finished his meal, stood up and exited the galley, Kazok's eyes followed him until he disappeared behind the door. The monk's tattoos and sheer bulk intrigued the half-orc. "He would be a worthy adversary to arm wrestle with. I wonder if he would be interested."
After finishing his stew and roll, the barbarian relaxes and rests his back against the wall. The gnome wasn't a great story-teller, especially compared to the best skalds, but Kazok wasn't about to pass an opportunity to distract himself from the monotonous sea journey.
Eeeh, no peace here either.
Paying little heed to what he just overheard, Wes finishes his soup and jumps off the crate he was sitting on. He then taps his belly to check for internal turmoil and content with the feeling, returns the bowl to the kitchen.
On his way there, the druid passes a jacked up sailor, covered in tattoos, yet seemingly calm and in no rush. He nods in greeting, but doesn't stop. Wes hasn't been on the ship for long, so hasn't had a chance to meet everyone yet. However, right after the meal, his will to talk is negligible, the poor food still weighing on his mind. Only complaining would come out of that.
Kazok wakes up slowly from the comfortable warmth of his sleep. He lifts an eyelid, then the other and sits up, not yet fully realizing that he has just survived a shipwreck. The slight pain he feels in his toe finishes to wake him. "Stupid crab!" Kazok swings his large fist at the crustacean as he stands up. Once stable on his two feet, he kicks the creature, intent on sending it back to the sea from which it came.
Now fully aware of his environment, he scans the beach looking for other survivors, bodies or remnants of the ship. "I hope I did not lose my sword."
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Apollyon coughs up saltwater and wipes the sand from his eyes to clear his vision. He staggers for a moment, dumbstruck by the reality of his situation. What in the hells happened? Am I dead? This is so typical.
After his brief moment of panic, Apollyon scans the immediate area for his equipment, or any potential improvised weapon (large stone, driftwood, wreckage) he can use to attack the lobster.
Apollyon is motivated by the plight of his fellow survivor, and by a ravenous hunger. I bet that lobster has a lot of good meat under that shell.
Kazok smiles widely when he recognizes the hilt of his greatsword. I'm in luck. It could have sunk into the sea's depths or landed on a beach far away. Before going to retrieve his beloved weapon, however, the half-orc decides that the annoying lobster would make a great meal. This time aiming more carefully, he attempts to crush the critter's carapace where its head appears to be.
for dmg.
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Huh... Wes scans around in confusion. What... was the stew from a poisonous fish? Why am I dreaming of poorly dressed men!? He looks down at his body, seeing himself in detail. Maybe it isn't a dream? A pinch to the leg, slight sensation and a double slap to the cheeks to top it off made it clear. "This is here and now.". Hearing his own voice settled the matter.
Wes then blinks heavily a few times, failing to get the salt out of his eyes. After a silent sigh, he motions with his hand and just as he finishes inhaling, a cube of water materialises over his head. A moment later gravity takes over and it splashes over him. Feeling refreshed and a little cleaner, the druid scans the surroundings for anything remotely useful or dangerous.
Kazok is pleased to hear a crushing sound after his foot connects with the lobster. Nonetheless, he is forced to dodge its claws a moment after. There is life yet in the creature. Seeing Apollyon run in his direction, he calls at him for help. "Please bring sword to me! Much easier this way!"
In the meantime, the half-orc attacks his adversary again by jumping on it with both feet.
Kazok celebrates his victory with a brief, bark-sounding cheer. "KAZOK!" Picking up the dead creature by one of its claws, he makes his way to retrieve his sword.
While walking, he notices a humanoid being attacked by another of the lobsters further down the beach. Given the size of the human, the half-orc realizes that it must be the large monk who was eating near him the night before. Apollyon has seen him too and starts running towards the new fight, but Kazok first goes to retrieve his weapon. Only then does the barbarian start jogging towards the second lobster-creature, ready to strike it with his weapon. "Nothing better than a fight to wake up in the morning."
Wes acknowledges the others. "Let's salvage what we can and gear up. Perhaps there are other survivors."
He then searches the beach extensively.
Kazok, his sword in one hand and his dead lobster in the other, reaches the spot where the monk is standing. Dressed in their undergarments, they both look like wrestlers in an arena.
He nods at the grey-haired human's remark. "I'm Kazok." He waits a moment for the others to introduce themselves, then he continues. "After searching beach, we need to find water." To emphasize what he's saying, he points to the sun that shines brightly in the sky with his large index finger.
Backing his words with action, the half-orc joins Wes in searching the beach for gear and other salvaged goods.
"Name's Wes. Not keen on the sea, but water won't be a problem while I'm alive." he smiles and points at the sun, mimicking Kazok and silently murmuring something. Instantly a large blob of water appears in front of him and drops to the ground.
Pausing for effect, the druid adds:
"It's one of the first tricks they teach you if you want to step on the path of Nature."
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After collecting his dagger and longsword, Apollyon makes his way over to the three survivors on the beach.
"Apollyon. That's my name." he says awkwardly. Seeing as we have our water supply covered, I'm going to try and start a fire, cook up those, uh, sea bugs or whatever... If I don't get something in my stomach soon, I'm going to be wither away. The smoke might attract other survivors, too."
Apollyon scrounges the area for driftwood, timber, tinder, and some large green palm leaves. The then piles them together in the sand. Only then does he realize that his Flint and Steel were in his backpack, which is still missing, so he goes rummaging through the wreckage looking for all his lost items.
"We'd better keep an eye out for more of those things...or whatever else lives on this island.
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Rateliff stands up and tries to brush the sand off his skin. When Kazok and Wes approach he remembers them as travellers on the ship, both of whom he had gotten a good read on during the passage. The elf running around though, he remembers him as a stowaway that just emerged last night.
Rateliff watches the elf while the other two introduce themselves.
Still foggy from the crash, Rateliff doesn't have the clearest head.
In a deep voice, "I'm Rateliff, and I agree with your sentiments. Let's do this quickly. I fear our troubles are only beginning."
'This could put me months off schedule..' he muses discouragingly.
'I need to shake this spell, perhaps I can meditate once we take to the jungle.'
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After a lengthy search, Apollyon has gathered the tools needed to start a fire from the wreckage that has washed up on the beach and other available materials.
He is methodical as he builds the fire: dig a pit about two feet into the sand (far enough up the shore that a wave or high water table does not flood the hole), build a pyramid of firewood with pieces of varying sizes, fill in the holes with kindling. Sweat rolls down his forehead as he strikes his flint and steel just above the mound.
Once the fire has ignited and died down to a steady heat, Apollyon carries the palm leaves down to the water and soaks them, rinses off one of the sea bugs, then wraps it in leaves and places it on the embers to steam. Within minutes a mouth-watering smell washes over the beach like a wave.
"Anyone hungry? There's another if need be, so eat your fill."
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Seeing that there are more mouths to feed than initially expected, Apollyon prepares the second sea bug in the same manner as the first. He lays out the first cooked creature on a bed of leaves on the sand, and pries open its shell with his dagger, then cuts out a large piece of meat from the tail and devours it.
”Sure, but don’t eat more than your share.” he says to the elderly Tian man. These two killed the creatures, and they deserve their share and more.” Apollyon motions to Maxwell and Kazok.
To the man in shackles Apollyon asks ”Who are you, and why are you shackled?” He helps sit the man up, and places a portion of cooked meat in his lap. And how in the hells did you make it to shore shackled. Something strange, or sinister, happened here…
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Jask, I have no intention of removing your shackles until I know who you are and what you've done, but I have no intention of letting you die on this beach, either."
Apollyon, now full, is feeling better even though his stomach continues to churn and roll. I hope someone else makes a decision about this Jask, and their next move. We can't stay on this beach forever.
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Rateliff picks up his few belongings. Then goes to the fire and takes a piece of the steamed creature with a terse "Thank you." When he sees Apollyon sit up the man in chains, Rateliff watches the exchange carefully.
"Let's leave him as he is for now," Rateliff cautiously advises as he walks off.
Slowly while he chews at the meat he walks the beach and attempts to inspect the prints before too many people cover them up. He is greatly disturbed by the fact that they were not washed ashore, but were dragged. He looks for clues, and mainly for where this savior has gone.
While looking inland Rateliff also looks to the jungle ahead and tries to deduce what safety they'll need while traveling in the terrain against poisoned plants, vicious creatures, and other natural obstacles.
After being satisfied with the search, Wes reroutes back towards the fire. In the process he is looking for anything else that looks edible.
"Odd, huh?" he says turning to Kazok, "The remains of the ship can be seen in the distance and there are tracks and drag marks everywhere. Someone clearly saved us, then vanished. What's going on??"
I've bad feeling about this...
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Apollyon tries to discern the truth in Jask's answer.
However, he struggles to understand others and so accepts his story with his usual fatalistic skepticism.
The second sea creature has steamed through, so Apollyon removes it from the coals and unwraps it from the leaves so the other survivors can eat.
Kazok's efforts to scour the beach for his belongings are rewarded and he is able to recover all his precious equipment. This suffices to put the half-orc in a good mood, despite the remnants of the night's illness and oblivious to the dire situation they are in and to the suspicious foot prints. He trots back to the fire-pit that Apollyon has dug and to the meal that awaits him.
On the way, he passes by Wes. "Yes, it strange, but I not worried. I found my axe. We find explanations after lunch!"
The barbarian sits down by the fire and scoops one of the large pincers. Crushing the carapace with his teeth, he engulfs the food as if he hadn't eaten for a week. "Apollyon is good cook, lobster is yummy." Having finished his meal, he starts brushing his armour with sand in an attempt to remove the algae and the oxidation caused by the unexpected trip in the sea. This gives him some time to think about their situation and the gears start to click in his head.
"Someone know where we are?" Although grammatically an affirmation, the tone of the sentence makes it clear that Kazok is instead asking a question. "Maybe some of us stay here to build shelter and wake the spleepies," he points at the three remaining survivors who are still passed out. "Others can go to the broken ship over there and look for stuff."
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Rateliff rejoins the group at the fire while Wes is talking. "I agree, and it bothers me, but we must have been brought to shore by boat."
Rateliff looks out to sea and the distant wreck, "If that was the case, I am also bothered by the lack of boats now or signals left for survivors."
"Once people are ready to move I think those cliffs," he begins pointing South, "may offer cover from both the weather and jungle."
Finding himself back at the fire, Wes proclaims to Apollyon: "Sadly, I didn't find anything else to eat on this barren beach. The stews of the past few days already sound more appealing than they were."
Oooh A sudden realisation. One of the last things Wes remembers is the chitchat he ignored while trying to eat in peace.
Looking around at the rest of the survivors, he says to Maxwell: "We came to be here in unusual circumstances, but the sun will only get stronger, so yes, our first order of business should probably be to find some shade. Let me see if I can determine where in general we are."
He looks towards the sun, estimating its height and angle, comparing the derived latitude to the small scale maps he read before joining the trip. They were on a shore, so he had all he needed.
"It's almost as if I had been here already!" and then proceeds explaining.