Daenan and Ujarak fight their way through the doorway to the passenger berths. The ship is listing to one side and downwards, making their way like scrambling upwards along a sloping hillside. When they reach the short corridor between the cabin they Walker and Rish emerging, and Cedric sticks his head out, eyes bleary from sleep, clinging to the doorframe to stop from slipping out. There is the sound of rushing water and shouts and screams from the crew from somewhere below.
"What's going on?" asks Cedric.
A wave slaps the side of the ship and the tilt to the deck increases with a jerk.
"We are sinking! Grab some clothes, we need to get up and fast." The elf shouts at their ward. He then kicks in his own cabins door thankful of having packed his things earlier, though wishing time he had the time to ditch some of the weight. Daenan just grabs things before heading back into the corridor waiting for Cedric.
Cedric's eyes widen and he clambers back into his cabin to pull on some trousers.
Risking offending Cedric, Rish staggers in behind him on the severely listing deck to help him find his things. ”This is going to have to be very fast, lad. While you get your pants on, is there anything that you cannot leave behind? It’s got to be small...”
Ujarak shouts as he ducks into his own cabin. He checks his belongins, the pack on the bed, Why'd I put the mail in there? the spears, Too unweildy. cutlass, It might get ugly on deck. and the bow. Damned if I'm leaving that behind.
He slings the pack over one shoulder; the sword belt for the cutlass, over the other. Then he grabs his bow and the quiver of arrows.
Plunging back into the companionway he yells,
Walker grabs his bow, quiver and morningstar and puts them in his haversack, and pulls out two waterproof sacks. Once abovedecks, he looks for lifesavers. If he sees none, he fills his waterproof sacks with the howling wind before sealing them to make improvised floatation devices. If he does see lifesavers, he grabs two of them and looks for Cedric.
Cedric re-emerges into the passageway, trousers on. The ship settles a bit further, the deck and the bulkhead now hard to tell apart due to the skewed angles. The way out is now a precarious clamber down a steeply canted corridor, filled ankle-deep with rushing seawater, to the doorway.
On deck, the list of the ship makes it hard to move. The starboard rail is nearly in the water and the bow is sinking further into the sea. Water is gushing out of the companionway to the decks below the fo'c'stle where the crew have their berths. A few scrambled out as Walker first got topside but no more seem to be coming from that direction. The strong wind is catching the sails, dragging the ship over on to the reef on which it is grounded. The Captain clings to the helm yelling orders. Sailors are above, desperately trying to cut down the rigging.
Then, with a sudden crack the mainmast snaps about halfway up. Giant splinters of wood, swathes of wet canvas and broken bodies fall from the sky and snapped cables hiss through the air like whips. The main chunk of the broken mast collapses on to the foremast, taking that down too. The Captain disappears in a hail of debris and the ship lurches over.
There is string of profanity and cursing every single god of the sea the elf knows as Daenan crashes into the waves.
Ujarak clears the doorway onto the deck. He takes his own advice, lurching toward the upward side of the boat. He's not quite there when the mast snaps...
... and a snapped stay flies at his face. His hands fly to protect his face. Burdened by the gear looped over his shoulders, they are too slow, and the stay flays a nasty stripe from cheek to brow.
Without a handhold, he begins to slide down the deck. He lunges for the rail, fingers brushing a belaying pin that would have saved him. Then he's sliding toward the water.
The sea is cold and clean in his mouth. He shivers as water fills his boots, and soaks through his clothing. He thrashes in the water trying to scramble back to the deck.
Lurching awake with the impact, Cyriprhain has a long minute of disorientation before conjuring a light and quickly taking stock. His armor is, as typically for a journey, packed tightly into his shield, so exiting is merely a matter of slinging his pack on his back, throwing his baldric over one shoulder, and heaving his armor into an awkward embrace until he is clear of his cabin and can drag it.
He makes his way toward the deck, calling
His bare feet slip badly in the rising water, and the battle=priest slides backward several feet.
When the ship gives its final lurch, he goes pale, free hand flailing for anything he can grab...
...which proves to be nothing. He manages to land painfully, teetering on the edge of a bulkhead -
- and then sixty-five pounds of plate armor hurtle down the deck at him, fetching him a painful blow in the ribs and knocking him into the churning sea...
Realizing he's going to need every advantage he can get, Rish draws on his connection to feline creatures.
"Cedric! We have to get topside! Follow Ujarak!" He points in the direction that the former sailor had gone.
Emerging onto the deck, the elf ducks back in time to avoid the falling debris, but sees Ujarak get struck and jerk backwards, throwing himself off-balance.
Emerging again, the bucking deck gets the better of him and throws him clear.
The elf crashes around the sea bashing against the rocks, trying his best to stay on the surface. He briefly considers cutting the straps of his backpack, but discards the idea for now. Stranded on a rock without equipment doesn't have great odds of survival either.
...
...
...
The pack, quiver, and swordbelt slide down Ujarak's arm's, interfering with his attempts to pull to the surface and dragging him down unto the reef. A breaker crashes on the shoals, driving him down and breaking his grip on his bow. He steadies himself on the rocks then pushes toward the surface, bursting into air in time for a quick breath before for another breaker plunges him onto the rock again.
Taking a deep breath and focusing within, Rish calls on his deeper connection to the feline, causing him to transform into the form of a large cat.
Walker, being abovedecks, was unprepared for the mast snapping. A full wad of wet sailcloth swung down in a tangle of ropes, knocking him into the sea.
He had, however, prepared proficiently for this eventuality. He swam as best he could, and used his exhalations to fill his waterproof sacks for use as impromptu flotation devices.
- check 1 was a 17, do i take a penalty to that? i do have something in my hands but they are for aiding in swimming, not like a weapon weighing me down
With a final desperate surge he flails for the shore. His head swims and his vision begin to blur, and he involuntarily breathes in a gulp of seawater. His lungs burn as he chokes. He flounders, struggling to keep his mouth and nose above the water. Then just as his body is about to fail him he feels stones under his feet. He lunges forwards and stumbles, finding himself sprawled on a bed of rounded pebbles. A wave crashes over him, immersing him for a moment in frothing surf. Crawling painfully, he clambers away from the water. He then collapses, shivering but on solid ground once more.
The large cat crawls out of the surf, standing just enough to shake much of the water from his fur before crouching down. He rests, staring out into the darkness of the surf, wondering where his friends and Cedric and the sailors are. Did any of them survive?
- passed first roll of swim
With a final desperate surge he flails for the shore. His head swims and his vision begin to blur, and he involuntarily breathes in a gulp of seawater. His lungs burn as he chokes. He flounders, struggling to keep his mouth and nose above the water. Then just as his body is about to fail him he feels stones under his feet. He lunges forwards and stumbles, finding himself sprawled on a bed of rounded pebbles. A wave crashes over him, immersing him for a moment in frothing surf. Crawling painfully, he clambers away from the water. He then collapses, shivering but on solid ground once more.
The sound of the pounding waves is in Ujarak's ears as he drifts through fugue-like dreams of darkness and cold. A bitter chill has sunk into his body and he shivers convulsively. Something grabs his shoulders and arms. He coughs and realises that actually he isn't dreaming. Somehow he has made it to the shore.
He is lying flat on his back and he can feel a bed of shifting pebbles through the wet fabric of his coat. Someone or something lifts him, his trailing feet rattling the shingle as he is dragged up a slope. He hears voices and realises they are speaking Allam Islander, though with his fogged mind he struggles to immediately decipher a language he has not heard for years.
Then a voice speaks clearly, though with a strong accent, in the Common Tongue of the Empire. "Do not worry, stranger. You belong to the Goddess now." A heavy blow to the side of the head plunges Ujarak back into unconsciousness.
He is lying flat on his back and he can feel a bed of shifting pebbles through the wet fabric of his coat. Someone or something lifts him, his trailing feet rattling the shingle as he is dragged up a slope. He hears voices speaking in an unfamiliar language. Then a voice speaks clearly, though with a strong accent, in the Common Tongue of the Empire. "Do not worry, stranger. You belong to the Goddess now." A heavy blow to the side of the head plunges Cyriphrain back into unconsciousness.
He opens his eyes. It is still dark. A black shape looms over him but as he blinks he recognises Rish's face peering intently into his own. Turning his head weakly he can see he is lying on a narrow shingle beach a few feet above where the surf surges and falls. A low cliff rises up behind.
The beach seems to be in a cove, and a few hundred yards further in this direction the strand seems to run out and the cliffs meet the sea. However, crumpled up by some rocks just before this point, Rish notices another body. As he gets closer he realises from the clothing it must be Daenan. As Rish bends over to check for vital signs Daenan groans and his eyes flicker open.
Walker laments the loss of the supplies he had left in the cargo hold, he hopes the barrels and chest float as the supplies are less dense than water.
"No time for that now, however."
Walker fights his way to his feet, shivering, and moves quickly away from the water as far as he can in a few minutes. Staying wet is a death sentence. He reaches into his haversack and pulls out supplies.
A wineskin, from which he takes a few gulps to wash the surf out of his mouth and replace it with the sweet-hot taste of fermented grapes.
A sunrod, which he cracks against a rock and sticks in the ground. He steps away from it, in case someone other than the party sees the light and comes to investigate. Getting more than thirty feet away, he pulls out his blanket and a heatstone and huddles over it making himself as small as he can in a crag between some large rocks. He tries to dry off as best he can while observing the sunrod from a distance through the slit in his makeshift tent.
You might notice a slight shiver in Rish, but he’s actually dry.
”Let’s get you farther from the surf, my friend.”
"That sounds reasonable enough. I should have things to make a fire even with wet wood." The man forces himself up and starts hobbling along the beach. "If we are lucky the fire should attract other survivors. Do you have any idea how others fared? I fell into the water almost instantly."
After walking a bit he finally manages to find what he was looking for pulling out a small crystal that starts circling him shedding light.