Fantasy World Creations

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It had been six weeks since your father died, and now finally, you were on the road to getting revenge against his killers, to put your name in the history books where it belonged. It was the only parting gift you could think of to give to your father. However, you had to actually survive the journey if you hoped to deliver, and it seemed like the gods had other ideas, as the ocean tossed your ship around like a child's toy in the bath.

You had never experienced the Ozmit Sea this bad before, and you could hear the wood of the ship actively screaming under the protest as it crashed through wave after wave of water.

If it had been your choice you wouldn't have chosen this ship or this crew, but it hadn't been your choice. As a whole, the Stalwart, for all the strength the name implied, would have been considered out of date for a cargo vessel over a decade ago, and it showed, but it did have the pro of being paid for by someone else. Your father never had much money to his name, and he wasn't one for saving it, choosing instead to often use anything he had to take care of you or fund his next expedition. What little you both did have saved was quickly spent over the last six weeks for his funeral rites and debts that you didn't realize he had until they started calling in droves.

After selling the house and anything you could to the vultures, you had no choice but to turn to the association for help, and every one of his usual backers had been nowhere to be found. Sure they had met with you, and gave you the appropriate condolences, but they had refused to open up their coffers to help. Their gold was all tied up in other ventures they said, but you knew what that meant, and who was tying their hands. Even after your father's death and stealing half of your father's legacy they were still playing dirty.

But they didn't tie up everyone, or it was better to say there were some people they actively ignored.

So you had managed to make a deal with one Veritas Herlock, a young half-elf noble just barely old enough to take these kinds of meetings, but not yet old enough to drink. He wanted to impress upon his elven father that he could be trusted with the business, capable of succeeding at risks. You had planned on taking his money for the sake of the adventure, even dealing with him cutting corners as long as it got you to your dream. You didn't realize it would be a package deal, both him and his bodyguard, and that package deal came with a lot of extra conversation.


"I never knew weather could be this bad," Veritas nervously chuckled trying to lighten the mood as he searched for a distraction other than the storm. He and his half-orc guard have been sticking to you like glue for the entire trip so far, and this weather means that you have had even less personal space. "But, I'm sure you've been on even more crazy adventures than this, right, Armand?"

[info]Give me a quick DC 10 CON save for seasickness.

Let me know where you are on the ship, what if anything you've been up to during the week on the boat, and where the crystal shard is on your person.[/info]

[blockquote]Rolled 1d20+2 : 1 + 2, total 3[/blockquote]

Armand had never been a fan of the sea always having preferred to have both feet on solid ground. He knew the trip was going to be difficult and bad weather was a possibility but this... He side eyed the young Veritas standing next to him with his nonstop banter. Armand wasn't sure what was worse at the moment, the sea or the man's incessant need to fill the silence in a time like this. As he sat in the galley with the two he wondered if the gods were punishing him for some reason and if it'd just be better to throw himself into the ocean. "This... This isn't an adventure. Its a deathtrap." He muttered under his breath. Despite it probably being the truth about the boat, he was sure the crew wouldn't appreciate the comment.

He quickly got his answer as the few contents of his stomach spewed out in a projectile vomit. He stopped and wiped his mouth, "I think I feel a little bett..." His churning stomach said otherwise. He stopped and looked at the mess he had made all over himself and the table. The ocean was definitely worse!

He excused himself and got up to stumble off and cleanup. He made his way back to his room and reached in his shirt pulling out the shard wrapped in a piece of cloth. He placed it under his hat on the bed and began to clean himself with a bucket of water. As he splashed water on his face he knew that no matter what the gods, nature, or anything else, he was going to make it to that island.

As the ship lurched again in the ocean Armand said to himself, "As long as this thing can hold together until we get there, at least."

You had found a way to silence Veritas,  as you lost control of your stomach, and with it your lunch. The kid had pretty good reflexes for being able to dodge without much of a heads up, or maybe you did a worse job maintaining your composure.

As you stood, covered in your own sick, Raynolt the usually stoic bodyguard chuckled, "You look greener than I do friend, and that's saying something."
"Don't tease, Ray! None of us were expecting the journey to be anything like this." Veritas countered looking slightly pale himself. Seeing that you were quickly going to make your exit, Veritas stood and quickly shoved a key into your hand. "The captain gave me an extra room for gear, I have a wardrobe case with a couple of extra outfits. Here is the key," he finished with a smile as he pressed the key into your hand before letting you go.

As you make your way from the galley, through the inner hold, to the few cabins that had been allotted to you, you have to be careful not to slam into the mountains of crates that Veritas' father had packed the ship to bursting with for the sake of the journey. It was like a maze in the hold, with the sheer number of boxes, filled with food and other needs that would probably have been enough to last you three expeditions, let alone one.

The ship rocks hard as you make it through, slamming your shoulder into one of the many crates. Now adding a bruise to the list of things that have happened to you today.

You would have thought someone would have called out that a wave that size was about to hit, but with the noise of the storm pressing down on everyone, it was easy to believe that the crew was busy fighting to keep this hunk of wood afloat.

---

---

The cabin they had you in would have been generously called a closet if you were on land, but at least it had a bed and for your needs, a clean bucket.

First thing, you sit down and take the stone fragment out of your shirt and the letter your father had sent. The letter, the last thing you ever received from your father, held a warning of danger as well as the few notes he had managed to gather on where the stone had originated from. The papers were damp, but otherwise undamaged, these were the best clue you had to find the answers that your father was searching for. He had spoken of an island chain, supposedly lost in the ocean during the age of calamity. An island that had once been the seat of a civilization that shaped the very waves around them and pulled up land as they needed it. He had used these legends and the markings on the crystal to pinpoint a general location for your travels.

Placing the letter under your hat, you turn your attention to the crystal. It feels warm in your hands despite the cold and the rain, and the stone has only been getting warmer each day you've been on the ocean as if it is signaling that you are headed in the right direction. Right now, it seems to almost thrum with power as it sends a comforting tingling sensation up your arm and through your body. The crystal was clearly more than just a regular piece of rock that your father stumbled upon.

The sour scent of bile pulled you from your musings, however, as everything but your hat had ended up a casualty of this rocky ocean ride. With no means to really do laundry with the current storm you really would need to get changed if you wanted to focus. The question was, was it worth looking at the spare clothes that Veratis brought? You knew the half-elf didn't lock his room during the day so you could easily grab what you need.

Armand pulled off his shirt and tossed it in the corner. "If I'm going through his stuff, I should probably not wear this in there then." He then pulled the key out of his pocket and opened the door to Veritas' room. He'd wished he'd packed more clothes but he was already short on funds with little time to properly prepare. He let out a heavy sigh as he stopped in and looking around.

Veritas' room, was actually a separate space meant, for a full set of crew hammocks, that had been cleared out and adapted into a series of partitioned spaces for his personal use.

As you enter the room, you can see two beds separated by a chest-high folding screen. The bed closest to the door was neat as a pin that you could have bounced a copper piece off of. A series of cheap weapons in easy reach no matter where you stood, which clearly read as Raynolt's space. The half-orc packed light so there was not much obvious there to explore unless you really wanted to search.

The other side of the room was another story entirely, this bed half slept, in with a goose-down pillow that Vertas had clearly brought from home. The bed was covered with books, art supplies, and half-finished charcoal drawings as if a tornado had gone through it. As you glance further past his living arrangements you can see a secondary door, open wide.

This secondary room, the size of your quarters at a glance,had been fashioned into a bathing/dressing area. You can see your own reflection from a full size mirror peaking out from the room along with the reflection of a large wardrobe case.

[info]Feel free to roll a perception check if you want to explore the room, just call out what area you are looking at or if there is anything you want more detail on.[/info]

He knew better than to actively go through the belongings of his young benefactor. That didnt mean he couldnt have a look at what was already strewn about. Armand made his way to the spare room, stopping at Veritas bed to see what the young man was looking over.

[blockquote]Rolled 1d20+6 : 5 + 6, total 11[/blockquote]

Glancing down at the bed while you move, it is difficult to tell what Veritas was reading, but it was clear what he had been using the art supplies for. A series of charcoal portraits depicting you, and Raynolt, doing different activities around the boat, in a surprising amount of detail. He clearly had a talent and an eye for detail, as each piece was more flattering than the last. He used his creative license to create an air of heroism around the both of you, using light and shadow to make you both more imposing and important looking even when you were doing mundane tasks.

The one at the top of the pile was different than the others, however, it was half-finished, and didn't depict anything that had happened on the boat. It depicted all three of you standing in some kind of jungle scene, though the details were still being fleshed out.

---
As you moved past the bed into the spare room, the trunk out in the open was, at a glance, a perfect match for the key you had been given. As you opened it up, you realized that it didn't contain just spare clothes, but full outfits, right down to the accessories. Digging through the contents, you realize why these were considered 'extra'. These appeared to be themed sets, that had been cobbled together by a young man craving adventure.


The first set was deep crimson, focused on an oversized trench coat, that looked like it was a rescue from another era. It would give anyone who wore it, along with the thick black leather boots, and series of belts a strong silhouette that would draw anyone's attention. It was clear that Veritas had put together this outfit, with its various extravagant belts and scarves, to play at being a pirate prince for a day.

However, it is clear that when this was designed, it favored form over function, the coat could not close, instead of using a series of belts across the chest and torso, which means you would have to go bare-chested for everything but armor.

The other outfit was more functional. Made of extremely soft, rich, lightweight material that would move with your body so as to not inhibit movement in any way. This outfit was a short sleeve shirt that barely covered your shoulders, pants that ended just below the knee, textured gloves meant to help with grip, and fabric-like shoes that allowed for a full range of motion of your foot. You had seen outfits like this before worn by different adventurers when working in the wilds that would require a lot of vertical movement. Veritas had added his own improvements to the design for sure, including things like extra belts on the arms, and perhaps too many pouches, but nowhere near the red one.

However, while you think the crimson outfit could be adjusted to fit you without much issue. It was clear that the designer had been a bit confused about who would be wearing this ending up with a size between Veritas and Raynolt. For you, that meant that it was probably half a size, or a little bigger, than what you normally wore. It wasn't enough to actually make it a problem in terms of function when climbing given how flexible everything was, but it meant just like the other pirate costume you may get a few looks if your rival were to see you. to make it harder, these looks are so specific that you pretty much have to go all or nothing to even try and make them work.

[info]Do me a favor, once you have chosen an outfit please give us a general description of Armand.[/info]

[okay]Item stats if that matters
Flamboyant pirate outfit
+1 to intimidation and persuasion
You begin any social challenge with a person who doesn't know you one step positive or negative at the player's discretion.

Climber's outfit
+2 to climb check
you can climb one-handed at a -5 penalty

Armand looks down at the drawings and raises an eyebrow. He wasn't quite sure why the man was drawing pictures of him but, he had to admit that he was talented. He chuckled at the creative license that was taken. The half-finished drawing drew his eye though. He wondered what he'd expected to find when they reached the island.

"Worry about that another time. I really need to get out of these." Armand looked down at the pants still slightly covered in sick and then continued making his way to the spare room.

---

Armand looked at the outfits and chose the simpler, more subtle of the two. He changed into the outfit and looked at himself in a nearby mirror. It's not his particular style but it was practical and comfortable. His brown eyes were red from the lack of sleep. His short brown hair swept back, wrapped in the bandana and tucked under his hat. The outfit fit his medium 5'9" frame, exposing his lean slightly tanned body. He scratched at his chin at the stubble that was growing in. He was starting to grow a beard since he wasn't willing to shave while on a ship. He looked at the still tossing ship and felt he'd made the right decision.

He then gathered his belongings and began to leave back to his quarters to drop them off.

You make it all the way back to your room without much problem as the boat continues to rock violently. Throwing your dirty clothes and boots into a spot by your bed the boat rocks with a sudden forceful jolt. If it wasn't for the fact that your new gloves gave you extra grip, you wouldn't have been able to stay on your feet and would have ended up in a heap with your old clothes.

You got lucky.

One of the crew members did not get as lucky, as the sound of a loud scream directly outside your window drew your attention before being followed by a splash. However, you didn't just see one person falling outside your window. In fact, what you saw was the elderly sea dog of a captain directly meeting your gaze with a suddenly sheepish expression, as he and a laughable number of his crew, and only his crew, tried to cram their bodies into one of the two tiny lifeboats that the Stalwart had been equipped with.

The other lifeboat you could already see in the distance was equally packed like sardines as they sailed out back the way they came away from the storm being chased by the waves.

In the split second while all of this registered as if to put a period on the thought, the captain called out, "The Renards send their blessings on your travels! May your father greet you soon!"

And then you watch the boat plummet out of sight as, with a laugh, he cuts the line.

Armand stared at the captain with obvious confusion as he tried to figure out what was going on. As the captain spoke and cut the rope, Armand snapped to and yelled out the porthole, "You better hope I don't survive this you bastard!" He was sure no one heard him over the sound of the crashing waves. It didn't matter, if he was going to die than he was going to do so having the last word. He quickly made sure he had the crystal, letter, and hat securely on his person before running back to the galley.

The adrenaline kicked in as the reality of their situation started to sink in and he ran yelling, "RAAAAAAAYNOOOOLT! VEEEERITAAAAS!" He stops in the doorway looking around for the two men.

As you enter the galley in a dead sprint, both men were equally surprised to see you up and around so soon. Veritas looking you over for a moment, quickly smiled as he saw that you had in fact picked out one of his outfits. He seemed all smiles and sunshine, blissfully unaware of the life-threatening danger you were all in as he was in the middle of a solitaire card game.

However, Raynolt, quickly reading the look on your face stood, "Is there some kind of problem?"

As if to punctuate his question, your collective stomachs drop to your feet, as a sensation of weightlessness overcomes you all as the ship crests another wave.

Armand attempted to grab hold of the doorway and brace but still felt himself being tossed around. He tried to recover quickly and looked to make sure the other two were ok. He was then quickly distracted by the taste of bile in his mouth again. By the gods he almost thought of accepting his fate, if not simply to just make everything stop spinning and jumping. He then looked at Raynolt with a mixture of rage and desperation as he swallowed it back down and spit the taste out of his mouth.

"That rat bastard captain and his crew abandoned ship to leave us to die in the storm. It was a damned trap! You wouldn't happen to be able to sail a ship would you?"

"We've sailed before," Veritas said, with a firm conviction, as he tried to stand with the rest of you.

"Your father's sailboat cannot compare, a boat this size requires more than three people to be run smoothly. That said, if we don't at least try to do something we'll be the laughing stock of the afterlife!" Raynolt smiled a genuine smile, that showed his razor-like tusks.

"We won't last long without a plan, and Armand, you are the only one with any kind of clue where we're going. If we're going to survive I think you'll need to take point on this. Tell us what you need and we'll do our best to help out where we can. To think we would have this kind of excitement so soon in our adventure!" Veritas said looking between the two of you with only a half terrified look on his face.
---
It seemed like the two men were looking to you for direction. You all knew the general layout of the ship, where the important mechanisms, were as well as to get supplies. Assuming that the crew hadn't laid traps or worse.

Veritas, taking a moment, rattled off everything he knew about boats in an attempt to help everyone understand the types of tasks that would need to be done to keep the ship afloat in this kind of weather.

[info]Skill Challange - Sink or Sink even faster.

DC: 15 Base
Veritas lists 3 major problems, that at least one of you will have to man if you hope to last any period of time.

Tasks:
Navigate the storm
Steer the ship
Man the sails

You can tell me how you want to do each task. Good descriptions and creative solutions with gear will modify the roll in your favor. Failing by five or more will cause complications succeeding by 5 or more will make other rolls easier. A Crit success and failure may also have unique effects.
[/info]

Armand thinks for a moment before pointing towards Raynolt. "Right, you get the sails! Time to put those muscles to work." Hen then points to Veritas and smiles, "Time for you to see how good of a sailor you are. You steer us out of here and I'll try to keep a watch ad guide you through. If we're lucky, we might even survive!"

Armand then puts in the direction back up to the ship. As they make their Way back up, Armand gets an idea to see if the captain may have left anything useful behind. "You two, get to your stations! I'm going to see if that asshole left any maps or something I can use to figure out where we are."

[info]Veritas will take the helm.
Raynolt will man the sails.
Armand will check the captain's quarters before attempting to help Veritas navigate the storm and keeping a look out.[/info]

Both your heart and mind were beating a mile a minute, as the fight or flight response kicked into high gear. The three of you had decided in that split moment to try to fight for your own survival. Powered by the sudden rush of certain death you watched the other two nod and begin to rush full speed on deck to their positions, with you hot on their heels the entire time.  Fueled by your emotions, and with a clarity of purpose, the three of you might be able to survive, your father always had stories of surviving impossible odds on sheer will power and a clever wit.

You had a plan, now it was just a matter of execution, and step one was to go hunting for clues before the ship went from bad to worse. This was perhaps your only chance to go hunting for anything useful before the storm would demand your entire attention. It was that knowledge that allowed you to climb above deck without even flinching as sheets of rain came crashing down on your collective heads as lightning wrenched across the sky like the claws of a massive dragon matched only by the ferocious winds.

In all the stories that your father told, he never really talked about the tunnel vision that occurred in these scenarios. At least not in a way that you had understood, until that moment, when you were really experiencing the full force of the storm for the first time. That tunnel vision to do what needs to be done, was allowing you in that moment to accomplish the most dangerous dead sprint you had ever done in your life without even registering what was happening around you. However, despite the dangerous environment you make it to the captain's quarters, drenched like a rat, winded, but unharmed.

Slamming the door open without a second thought and stepping through the threshold, without a second thought, that tunnel vision became a double edged sword. You were so focused on looking out for anything that might be useful left behind, you didn't even think to make sure it was safe.

The thought of traps never crossed your mind, until you felt the sensation of a tripwire snapping against the bare skin of your leg.

[info]give me a fort save for the sprint and a reflex save to try and get away from the tripwire.[/info]

[info]
Fort: [blockquote]Rolled 1d20+2 : 14 + 2, total 16[/blockquote]
Reflex:  [blockquote]Rolled 1d20+5 : 10 + 5, total 15[/blockquote]
[/info]

Steady on your feet as you hear the snap of the trip wire, you manage to tumble back out of the room before you hear the smashing of glass and the lick of flames on your back. Turning around you see that the room had been trapped with a flask of alchemist fire centered on the desk and papers that had been your main goal.

[error]take 1 point of fire damage [/error]

Luckily, it seemed like the crew didn't have time to set up any kind of deadlier trap other than the single flask, so it was a simple matter to rush in and throw the papers that were actively burning out into the storm to extinguish itself.

Doing a quick search of what was left, easily accessible, and not horribly scorched, you find a couple of things, a compass, a half-burned sailing chart/map, a set of common lock picks, a broken trip wire, some dried foods, and a charred scrawled note that had avoided most of the fire.

There does seem to be a few places where things may be hidden, including the drawers of the drafting desk was at the center of the blaze, and a chest at the foot of the bed. However, to look deeper into any of these places would require time

Armand's eyes went wide as he heard the little snap. "That little rat bastard..." was all he managed to get out before diving back out in time. Armand patted his back off and grabbed what he could salvage cursing himself. "Rookie mistake and you should know better!" He chastised himself as he looked through what he was able to save. He put two lockpicks in his belt pouch and hide the third one in his pant leg. With his luck, he would need it eventually. He then took a quick look at the note to see if he could learn anything new before trying to figure out where they were with the map and compass.

[info]
Sleight of hand for concealing a lockpick:[blockquote]Rolled 1d20+7 : 2 + 7, total 9[/blockquote]
Armand will read the note before attempting to not lead the others into death. [/info]

The note is heavily charred from the fire, but the few bits that you could make out read as:

Follow the course-

-The Unicorn-

-We have provided you with plenty of-

-Sir Herlock-

With this, our deal is done.

These scraps are blurred and separated by the various amounts of charred spaces that remove most of the context.

Armand stares at the note and tries to make anything out before growling and tucking it into his shirt. "No time to figure it out now," he thought to himself. He then turned his attention to the map and compass. He took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself as he attempted to remember his father's lessons. His attempt to calm his nerves obviously wasn't working as he was still getting tossed about by the rough waves. He held the map and compass and attempted to figure out where in the hells they were.

[info]{roll} Trying to figure out where they were and what direction they needed to adjust, as needed.
Knowledge (Geography) [blockquote]Rolled 1d20+4 : 20 + 4, total 24[/blockquote]
[/info]

Using the compass and the remnants of the map, you were actually able to get your general bearings, at least you hopped. Mapping the route that you were supposed to take and accounting for possible drift due to the storm you thought it might be possible to avoid some of the worst currents. Raynolt for his part seemed to have control of the sails. He had managed to climb halfway up the mast and secure the sails so that the ragging wind wouldn't end up tipping the boat sideways. However, all the stability in the world meant nothing if the person steering didn't have the strength to wrestle the boat under control.

Veritas was trying his best, but the half-elf wasn't even in the right weight class to be trying to wrestle a boat of this size. Your route was the only reason that the boat wasn't completely dashed by the waves. More than once Veritas lost complete control as the boat even despite the sail continued to pick up speed. The boat groaned heavily under the protest of the storm, making sounds like a dying whale, that was far from pleasant.

"I can't keep the wheel under control!" He screamed, but something else caught your attention.

A wall, no- a mountain, of fog, that consumed the entire horizon in every direction. With its stark nature seeming to merge the sea and the clouds it was clearly unnatural. And at the speed you were going, there was no avoiding, only a few seconds to think before being consumed.

Under better circumstances, Armand would have enjoyed watching Veritas struggle. This was not the best of circumstances, so he would have to laugh about it after surviving this. As he heard the sounds of the ship under the stress, He leapt into action and ran up to Veritas to help him at the helm. He didn't like the look of that wall of fog that was ahead of them but it was in the direction he needed to go. As he stood at the helm with Veritas, he stared ahead with determination on his face. Armand was going to make it to that island if it were the last thing he'd do. "Everyone get ready and hold on! We're going in!"

[info]Armand will try to help steer the ship.
[/info]

In your attempt to steady Veritas, you have to wrap one arm around his waist and the other around the wheel. You manage to keep him from slipping or hurting himself, but the path of the boat was too far gone to recover from as you made contact with the mist.

And you did make contact, with the mist. As the ship rushed forward, instead of slipping through the dense fog as you would have expected, instead it acted almost like a solid wall. As the waves pushed you forward the ship began to tip upwards. Like a cart struggling to climb up a hill, the boat continued to turn upright. Just when the fear hit you that the ship, for some bizarre reason, might tip head over heels in the process, the fog gave way like a knife through butter.

In one swift motion, like a knife cutting through butter, the ship literally split apart the fog. Your stomach was in your throat as the boat was propelled through the tear in the fog with a mightly slam. The fog quickly shifted to fill the gap that you left behind as you moved faster and faster as you couldn't even see an inch beyond your nose. Here in the mist, all of your senses seemed dulled, as if you were being surrounded by cotton. Despite the soft nature of your surroundings, every hair on your body stood on end, and a tingling sensation ran up and down your body. Though that might just be the adrenaline talking.

"This fog seems to be an entirely different weather pattern, than the surrounding area. I haven't heard of anything like this. Even from the mast, there is nothing but white," Raynolt calls as he climbs down.

[info]Has the storm abated in the fog or is it still going?[/info]

[info]Perception: [blockquote]Rolled 1d20+6 : 6 + 6, total 12[/blockquote][/info]

As you look out into the fog, trying to get a sense of the storm, you realize that you hear the storm still but the rain has significantly lessened around you. However, the thing that catches your attention the most is the lightning. Your boat seems to be traveling at a fast past, but the lighting that you see casting dark blue shadows through the mists of white seemed to be moving in slow motion. This is the first time that you have seen the actual structure of lightning, as it tried to claw through the fog. However, as you watch the lightning instead of falling in straight lines it curved oddly in unnatural circles right before your eyes. As if someone or something was actively bending the storm in the fog to their will.

One bolt of curving lightning arched across the sky drawing your sightline further into the distance, and that's when you saw it, like a second sun, A white orb floating in the sky. The first bit of real light you have seen in days.

Armand watched the lightning and was bothered by a few things going on. Before he could panic he had to figure out what was going on. He shouted out to their master of sails, Raynolt, can you slow us down at all?

He then took a moment to study the light and lightning to figure out what he was seeing and how much danger they were in. He then looked over at his sponsor to see how he was fairing. No, he quickly thought to himself. Raynolt and Veritas were probably the only two people he could trust right now. They were in this together, sink or swim. He chuckled to himself, poor choice of words perhaps.

Veritas, How're you liking your adventure so far? Have you ever heard of anything like that? He smiled and there was a grim humor in his voice as he spoke up to the young man next to him.

[info][blockquote]Rolled 1d20+4 : 16 + 4, total 20[/blockquote][/info]

"The wind is acting weird in this fog," Raynolt said with a grimace, "the sails stopped moving the moment we entered this place."

However, it was the orb, that held your attention. As you focused on that orb that tingle that had begun to crawl up and down your skin intensified till you could feel it in your bones. Whatever that light was, it seemed to be the source of the influence, the magic, that seemed to be drowning the space in power. A level of power that would make even powerful mages sweat with envy. As you continued to look at it, something in the air actively shifted, and a thought crossed your mind at that moment.

What if, while you were looking at the light, the light was looking at you?

With that thought in mind, you turn to speak to Veritas he chuckles with nervous energy. "We're all alive so far, so that's a plus. I didn't plan for a sea of fog, but I guess this is one way to start things off. But I think we have a bigger problem the wheel refuses to turn. It's like its frozen."

Armand's eyes went a little wide as he started to walk away from Veritas. He wasn't a fan of being watched and certainly not by a giant floating ball of light in the sky. I wouldn't celebrate not being dead quite yet. Raynolt, we have a problem and I am not sure how much time we have. Whatever that is, He pointed to the ball of light in the sky,  I think it knows we're here and is pulling us in. I need you to keep an eye on that and around us. I want a warning before we run into any more trouble.

He then moved quickly to the captain's quarters. Veritas, I'm going to check to see if there's anything else we can use or learn in the captain's quarters. He wasn't sure if there was more he could do so he decided if the ship were out of their control anyway, he would take a moment to find what he could that may be useful to them.

[info]Going to try and actually make a quick search of the captain's quarters besides what was on top of the desk
Perception: [blockquote]Rolled 1d20+6 : 13 + 6, total 19[/blockquote] [/info]

"An eye on what?" Veritas asked looking where you were pointing, "All I can see is white mist."

The look on both men's faces was one of one obvious confusion as they looked back at you, as if worried that you hit your head in some way.

--
As you begin moving back towards the captain's quarters that buzzing you have been feeling intensifies as you threaten to break line of sight with the orb.

[info]if you want to ignore the feeling and break line of sight I'm gonna need a will save.[/info]

[info]Will save: [blockquote]Rolled 1d20+2 : 5 + 2, total 7[/blockquote] [/info]

Feeling the buzzing against your skin, and choosing to ignore the sensation of being watched, you make the active decision to go back to the captain's quarter. However, as soon as you settle on that choice you feel the air shift around you. Everything seems to slow around, suddenly Veritas' words slow drawing out the sound, and the fog against your skin suddenly feels as thick as mud constricting your body. Only the buzzing feeling remained the same, as it began to shift, concentrating from a wave across your body into a single force like a knife trying to claw its way deeper into your being.

As the power moved from your physical body to push to something deeper, it touched something at the core of your being, something that the primal part of your brain tried to protect with everything you had, and yet it meant nothing against this force. At that moment that it touched your very soul, a connection was made between you and whatever was the source of the power, if only for a short moment. The source of the power was too alien, too massive, for you to really understand what it was, or what it was trying to do by making contact.

However, you could taste their desperation, an almost child-like need to not be left alone, these feelings and more bled through the connection to your soul washing over you as if you were actively drowning, and then at then the anger set in, and before you could even understand why this thing was upset the connection broke. The buzzing ended then, leaving your body completely numb, except for a burning sensation in your chest where your heart was.

Whatever that power had done to you in that split second that time had slowed it had left its mark, and then as if the world was exhaling, time resumed. A hand going to your chest feeling a warmth under your skin. However, the second shoe was about to drop.

"An eye on what?" Veritas asked looking where you were pointing, "All I can see is white mist."

The look on both men's faces was one of obvious confusion, as they looked back at you as if worried that you hit your head. Neither one of them had experienced what you just did as they continued to watch you in concern.

[info]you have about one turn before the back half of the boat will be struck with a massive lightning bolt, partially destroying the ship and blowing the three of you overboard as your vision goes white.

I just want to give you a moment to respond to what has just happened before the next thing goes off.[/info]

What were they talking about? The ball of light was right there in the sky and this wasn't the time for jokes and games. He turned to face the others and his expression quickly changed from confusion and annoyance to fear and dread. He looked down as he placed his hand on his chest and then looked back up to Veritas and Raynolt. He wasn't sure what was about to happen but he had a bad feeling about it.

In the brief moment, all he managed to be able to do was reach out and yell, "Take cover!"

Less than a heartbeat after your warning the fog opened up directly over your ship, and filling the gap was a blast of electrical force so great that the ship was partially pushed under the water before the power exploded outward.

In a flash, half of the ship was gone and the three of you had been flung, with the debris, like fleas from a dog, out into the open water. The last thing you remember before losing complete consciousness was the sensation of sinking deep under the water as that buzzing sensation returned to your skin as if to get you to the bottom faster.

---

---

When you next come to consciousness, you are not greeted by the smile of your father, or the light of the divine gates, even the sounds of the ocean are gone. Instead you find yourself staring up through a glass ceiling atrium and a solid ground of marble flooring.

Without even needing to sit up you could tell that you were somewhere completely foreign to where you had been before, and inside some kind of opulent entryway.

Did we die?Armand felt his chest as he laid down searching for any holes and damage. He then slowly attempted to get up with a groan and look around. There was a look of confusion and worry as he tried to figure out where he was and if his companions were nearby. What in the hells happened?

[info]Perception for surroundings and to see where the others are

[blockquote]Rolled 1d20+6 : 16 + 6, total 22[/blockquote][/info]

Your voice reverberates back to you as you shout out to your companions, however after a moment of waiting, it is only your voice that fills the silence of the place as you look around for more detail. Searching your body quickly for damage, you don't even see a scratch to denote the voyage you just survived. A fact that may or may not comfort you given your currently strange environment.

As you turn your attention to the room itself, you see that this is in fact some kind of central atrium. Chairs seem specifically placed in that usual back to back way used for public spaces to sit and wait. There is even a large marble desk built into the wall, made out of marble where you imagine a greeter might sit. In total this large space might be able to hold over 50 people comfortably. However, with only you there it felt somehow ominous. It didn't help matters that there was zero in the way of a torch or even a candle in this room. The only light coming from outside the glass ceiling, a rotating pillar of light, that had passed over your head twice now that you have started counting, and a soft orange glow from one of the many connecting halls.

In fact, as you used what light did draw your attention, you realized there was a number of halls connected to this central room, and as the light above you passed by once again you could see that the  of the door ways in front of you had brass lettering over them. One was named Raynolt, Veritas, Armand, and Valerie.

Besides having the names of people you knew on them, these doors were unique for other reasons had you not been looking for every detail you could. Gems, had been embedded into the center of the three of the massive doors. Each was the size of your fist, but they strangely did not seem to catch the light overhead. Instead, some of the gems seem to admit their own light, though you would have missed it at first glance.

1 of 5 in the Raynolt door
3 of 5 in the Veritas door
5 of 5 in the Valerie door

the door with your name seems to not have any gems, but unlike the others, it was your door that had the soft orange glow behind it, from the slit under the door, as if someone had lit a fireplace.

I never expected the afterlife to have a waiting room ..  Armand walked around the waiting room area looking around for a moment. Not seeing his companions, or anyone else for that matter, he continued towards the doors.

As he stopped in front of the doors and studied them, a thought came to his mind. If I'm dead, what are these doors for? He stopped as he thought about which door to open. He briefly reached for Valerie's door before stopping. No, he thought, if I'm going to get out of here I'll need help. He then reached for his door emitting the light from behind it and opened.

As you open the door with a heavy shove, you walk into the hall baring your name to find a well appointed museum gallery. Several rows of display cases, of all sizes and shapes, stand like ideal soldiers in the room. As you stepped in further, you could tell at a glance what most of them were without even reading one of the plagues, things like the first treasure you had ever found, the first letter you had received from your father, and even something shaped like his casket was barely visible behind frosted glass.

Even the walls were lined with paintings of you from different times of your life, as if they had taken your memories wholesale and painted them from a third party perspective. The largest painting of all being a portraitt of you with your father centered on the back most wall. However, as your eyes scan over it something seems off about the composition that you would need more than a glance to understand

Along with the various strange pieces from your personal life, there seemed to be just as many empty cases especially as your eyes drift down from the painting and to a tight cluster of paintings at the center of the room. Most of the cases there were empty, except for two that stood out. One was a folded pile of clothes, and the other, at the center of everything, looked to be an empty hat rack that both would also need closer inspection.

Armand walked down the hall and couldn't help but stare in amazement. It was practically his whole life laid out in front of him. There was the dagger he found from a lost tomb of a long dead mage in Osirion. A painting of him going on a dig with his father. And there... He stopped at the glass containing his father's coffin. He stared at it with a sullen face and reached out the glass, stopping himself just short of actually touching it. He drew his hand back and tilted his hat back slightly. "Right, I don't know where I am but... I'm not done!"

He walked on leaving his father's coffin behind. He had mourned him in his own way, or so he had told himself, and decided the best way to honor his father was to finish his work. So he continued past the paintings and cases. He eyed the painting, tempted to go straight towards it, but he decided to check out the other two cases first. He slowly walked over towards the case with the clothing to see what they were.

[info]Perception on the case with the clothes [blockquote]Rolled 1d20+6 : 4 + 6, total 10[/blockquote][/info]

As you walk up to examine the clothes you see a small plaque that reads:


As you read over the plague you see three similar gems as those you found in the doors. These are clearly smaller but of similar shape and cut. One of the three was glowing on this particular plague.

As you glance back to the writing on the plaque however you must have blinked and missed something because reading the inscription a second time the section about the donation was gone. In fact, as you glance back up at the large painting of you and your father, at the center back wall you notice exactly what's off you are wearing the exact same climber outfit. You even had the dark shadow of stubble that you normally tried to shave away. But, there was something even more off about your depiction, where you were normally around the same size as your father, here you dwarfed him. In this painting you stood at least 6'2 if not 6'3.

---

Turning your attention to the hat rack, you find that is unique in being one of the few items not locked behind a case. Only a velvet rope cords it off from the rest of the public. This particular exhibit seems to have pride of place at the center of the exhibition, which is strange considering the seemingly incomplete nature of the piece itself.

Armand looked at the plaque. He hadnt misread it, right? Well, thats curious! He stares at the painting as he walked to the hat rack. He was sure that had changed.

Stepping up to the hat rack, he moved around the velvet rope. Armand studied it and thought for a moment before warily removing his hat. He stared at the painting, I better get this back! He then placed the hat on the hat rack and took a step back.

As you move to place your hat on the rack in question, you can feel the weight of the crystal shard hidden away before it tumbles out, at last second, just as you finish placing the hat. In many was, this hat was the thing that had started your journey. It was the only personal effect that had been recovered in tact after your father's death. The only memento of his legacy, besides you, the only thing sharing in your burden.

Carrying all these emotions as you place the hat on the rack the floor around it began to shine along with the crystal shard. Feeling that same pull you felt before on the ship you were consumed by the light being produced by the hat and the crystal.

You blinked once, and you were no longer in the strange exhibit of your memories.

In the course of one blink, you were in your family home, sitting at the table where you and your father had breakfast since you were a child. As your eyes continue to focus, you can feel the air alive with that strange magic, and then you here the thing you would have never dreamed of hearing.You heard the familiar sound of a knife scrapping butter on toast, as you realize your father is sitting across the table from you without a care in the world.

"Do you need another cup of coffee, You seem a little out of it this morning?" your father smiles at you.

[info]Please set the scene of the last breakfast you had with your father before his death. You have all the memories and understand of the current you so feel free to act as you please.[/info]

Armand looked around for a moment, trying to understand what had just happened. He looked over the plain kitchen with very few dishes and utensils. There was a window with the view of a small garden outside in the back of the small home. The table in front of him was set with a plain white cloth and two plates with eggs, sausages, and toast. There was a coffee pot with a bowl of sugar and two coffee cups next to the plates. Everything here seemed so familiar...

His eyes followed the sound of the voice and he stared at his father for a moment. Then clicked and he realized where he was. This was the last time he saw his father alive. He had gotten into an argument with him because he wouldn't let him travel with him. Armand had wanted to go with him but his father was adamant about him staying behind without much of an explanation. Of course, Armand had realized that his father had suspected something may happen during the trip. Unfortunately, he was unable to figure that out until after his father's death.

"Yes, sorry! I just... I guess I didn't sleep very well!" Armand wasn't sure what he was doing as he reached and poured himself another cup of coffee and took a sip. He'd always hated the taste of his father's coffee. It was always too strong, habit from working late hours studying old writings and ancient artifacts. Now, though, it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. It reminded him of something he'd never get to experience again, or so he thought.

He then smiled and looked at his father across the table. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was saying, that I know you are disappointed that you can't come with me, but I promise the work I lined up for you as a part of the archives will look better on your application to the Society than any expedition in the world," He said it with a weak smile. You both knew just how boring the archives could be, nothing but reading papers and doing research was the lowest rung of the ladder in the society.

Your father had gone out of the way to make sure you would be buried in work while he was away on this particular expedition. The research job was just the last step in his very transparent plan, and every time you pushed him as to why he never gave you a satisfying explanation. He had even been keeping the entire trip a secret from you until you had heard someone gossiping about your father when they thought no one was around to notice.

Now, this was the last chance you had to get answers and maybe change his mind. Though right this moment, his trip seemed to be the furthest thing from his mind as he doted on you as if you were a child again, as he pushed one of his sausages onto your plate when he thought you were distracted.

Armand stared at his father for a moment. There was so much he felt he had left to say but didn't have the time to say it all. He sighed  and took another sip of his coffee. Father, I know why you're keeping me behind. I know you suspected you weren't coming back. I know you trusted me to continue your work. And I know that I failed! What I don't know is, why didn't you think I could have helped you? Why didn't you trust me with the truth until after? He paused for a moment and closed his eyes, fighting the wetness starting to form. He then said in a quiet whisper, Why didn't you give me a chance to say good bye? This isn't how this went! You let me leave angry. You never gave me a chance to say sorry...

When Armand finished speaking, he looked down into his cup and wiped the tears out of his eyes. He wanted his father to understand the burden left upon Armand's shoulders. He wanted to get the weight of this guilt off of him. Besides that, despite what his father may have thought, Armand wasn't ready to do this on his own. The fact he woke up in what he only assumed was some sort of afterlife meant he had obviously died either from the blast or the waves and failed in finishing his father's work.

Before you had a chance to look up from your cup of coffee, your father had crossed the table and embraced you in a hug. He did not say anything at first, just simply held you there, in a gesture of fatherly affection, that you know didn't happen. Yet despite the fact that you know this isn't how this happened the first time, the real-time, you could still feel his heartbeat under his shirt as he held you, and you could still smell the aftershave he used every day. He let that comfort stretch on for a moment longer than he ever would have normally before pulling away slightly, and looking up at you as he pulled away and ruffled your hair he finally speaks.

"You know I love you, you are worth more than any treasure this world has to offer," he says with a smile seeming somehow smaller than you remember. "With your mother gone, you have to let me be protective for the both of us, even if I suck at it sometimes. You have to know, that every success I have to my name, pales in comparison to the fact that your mother and I got to bring you into the world."

To put an extra period on what he said, he plucks the hat off his head and places it on your head, "You being angry, was the best gift I could ask for, that you wanted to walk this road of adventure by my side. But we both know my days are numbered. It was my job to give you everything I could. After all, you look better in this hat than i ever did."

Armand couldnt help but let the tears flow as the realization that this actually was his father. He held onto to him until his father let him go and smiled and listened intently. He felt a weight lift off him as his father explained to him.

When he finished, Armand wiped his eyes and looked up at his father. I dont like it but, I understand! He took the hat off and looked down at it as his smile faded. When he looked back up at his father, there was nothing but defeat and despair on his face. It doesnt matter. We didnt make it to the island. Valerie basically paid the captain to double cross us. The ship came apart and I drowned. I was so close and yet so far! Im sorry!

As you look up to make your final declaration, to your father, of your failure and death, through your veil of tears everything was gone. Your father, your house, everything had disappeared, replaced with a white void with only your voice echoing off into infinity. However, your father's voice, even less then a whisper, reaches your ear.

"Embrace the Dream and Anything is Possible."

As the words finished you were able to have a single breath, a single moment to think that this might be your afterlife, being forced to relive aspects of your life over and over again. However, this place had other plans for you, as the tears began to dry on your cheeks you realize this white void was begging to glow and get warmer. Eventually the light got so bright and warm that it felt like your skin was on fire and you completely blinded you for the second time.
[okay]
Father's Hat*** Transforms into:
Father's Hat (+1)
this hat holds the special memories of your father and now acts as a 5lb bag of holding. [/okay]

---

---

Then you wake up with a start, in a bed. The mid morning sun peaking through a roughly made window of a grass and driftwood hut, no bigger than twenty feet either side. The calm sound of waves and the cawing of seagulls greeting you, along with the rich scent of some kind of sweet rich smelling soup bubbling low on a fire pit just outside the grass curtain door off to your side. As you take a moment to orient yourself you can taste the salt of your own tears although you can't remember the exact cause. Glancing around further you see this hut was decorated with various hand made crafts, sea glass chimes and large seashells that acted like china lined the walls and ceiling. On the table is a bowl of soup, still warm, along with your clothes and your father's hat.

The outfit you had asked Veritas to prepare for this trip per your specifications seemed to be intact, but what drew your attention  the most was your father's hat seemingly in perfect order. A miracle amongst the storm.

[info]Things to know:
1). Your memory is completely missing from the time of the lightning flash till waking up write now, but your heart and body still remember everything that happened so any emotions you want to carry through you can you just don't have the context for them.

2) your memory of when your father left have shifted to be more in line with what you just enacted minus any mention of your failure or knowledge of his plans. However you can still feel your emotions because your heart remembers both sets.

3) You are aware of the hats power as if you knew from the start.

4) you are now 6'1" and the outfit fits ideally, shoe size shirt size the works, however your body is still used to your old stature for now. Meaning when you get out of bed you may experience some vertigo or the like I'll let you decide how that plays out just in the immediate future till your body adapts.[/info]

Armand quickly sat up, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. He squinted as his eyes tried to adjust to the bit of sunlight coming through. He blinked heavily as he caught his breath and took a look at his surroundings. His eyes stopped at the table with his belongings and the soup. He moved to get out of bed and felt a wave of dizziness as he stood up. He slowly walked towards his belongings with a strange sensation. He dressed himself then took the bowl of soup and drank a few gulps from it. As he put the bowl back down, he had an odd feeling that whoever lived here must be of a small stature.

After making sure he had all his belongings, he checked the hat for his father's letter and the crystal before slowly making his way outside.

You made your way over to your belongings and reached for the hat in two strides. Reaching your hand past the brim the shadows consumed all the way up to the forearm. Glad to see that whatever strange magic had occurred in the mist had not interfered with the magic of your father's hat, you quickly confirm that the contents of the hammer space were still intact.

With everything accounted for and still plagued by a little bit of dizziness you make your way out into the warm embrace of the sun. You are greeted by a cool breeze and soft white sands as if you had stepped into the middle of a painting depicting a tropical island. Several make-shift homes are spread out in the shape of a small village. You can even see some small canoes just off the shore as a few outlines go about their day fishing. The thing that catches your attention is the bough of the Stalwart ripped mostly to large pieces scattered in chunks in various directions.

The largest section seemed to have quite the crowd surrounding it as people you had never seen before were busy energetically talking while another group went about passing down several boxes with Veritas' family seal. Some of the cargo you brought with you must have survived.

"No,! No, no, no..." Armand tried to make his way towards the commotion. He was a bit wobbly and lightheaded has he hurriedly walked towards the wreckage. He began waving his hands as he moved towards the people to both get their attention and briefly stop them from pilfering what was left of the supplies.

"Wait, Stop! Raynolt, Veritas?" He yelled for his companions having realized he didn't see them nearby. He hoped, what felt like in vain, that they not only survived their ordeal but were in some shape to recover at least some of the supplies they had brought along with them.

Few of the people ransacking the remains of the ship even paused from their work, despite Armand's protests. Everyone is too busy sorting the trash from the salvage to pay your yells much more than a glance.

As you approach closer to the scene of the wreckage, frantically scanning the faces and the surroundings for your companions, you can see that these people have all seen better days. All wear patch work outfits of furs, leathers, scales, and clothes you could imagine someone bringing along for a voyage on a sea. All of them had a deep tan from spending too much time out in the sun, and their various hodgepodge clothing didn't provide them with much protection. Some of them even had gnarly scars on display though most you could see had gone white with age.

As you get closer, you can tell that this group seems as diverse as their patchwork clothing: humans, halfings, and even a massive mangy white lion-kin make up the ranks of this small handful of survivors, no more than 15 in all. Eventually your frantic calls draw the attention of a younger woman, her skin a rich tone from a long time under the sun while her gaze was clinical in nature as she moved into your personal space without a second thought to put the back of her hand against your forehead. She is a good half a foot or more shorter than you and maybe just turned old enough to be considered a full fledged adult, but the air about her is calm and steady as she looks through you versus at you for a moment. However, all sound of work has stopped completely as the people tearing apart the ship are now watching the interaction intently daring you to act out while this girl is so close.

"It seems like your fever has finally broken, I'm glad," she says after a moment of thought. Her voice has a slight accent you can't place, as she speaks. She steps back out of your personal space again as if seeing you properly for the first time. "Seems like you're a bit unsteady, from the way you are holding your weight, but it doesn't seem like there are any obvious injuries. A god must have smiled on you," she finally said with a nod.

"We were only able to find two others amongst the wreckage, a half-orc and a half elf. If that's who you're screaming for then they are over in Jareth's hut," she said, pointing to one of the larger huts you can see deeper past the beach line where you ran from. "You seemed to be having a rougher time of things, so we kept you separated for observation. They have yet to wake up yet but they're stable. You should go check on them while we go about seeing what loot we can gather."

The last line being more of an order than a suggestion.

Armand was about to protest to the woman but he was caught off guard by the warm hand against his forehead. He almost stumbled as he took half a step backwards in surprise. He quickly regained his composure as she removed her hand and spoke. The mention of his two companions being the only other survivors brought the memory of the crew's betrayal came flooding back to him. "If the gods do smile on us, the others were swallowed by the black."

He then looked past the woman towards the others salvaging the remains of the ship. If Armand and the others were going to survive and stop Valerie, then they were going to need help. With any luck some of their gear would be recoverable. And it would be good to have people who live on the island as guides. It was always better to have someone who knows the local area rather than going in blind. He looked back at the young woman in front of him and smiled, offering his hand to her in greeting. "My name is Armand Knute! I'm guessing I have you to thank for saving my life?"

As if she could judge your moral fiber based off of how you stood, Mira put her hands on her hips as she studied you for the second time, truly studied you in detail, like one would a questionable bit of produce at the market. Finally after just long enough of a gap to make everyone feel comfortable she puffed her checks and blew a raspberry to release the tension.

"You seem harmless enough for the moment, your energy is all over the place, but I can't expect much better considering you survived the stuff the island puts out to keep people away. The name's Mira and I guess it's my job to welcome you considering my mom ain't around," She paused to put on the airs of a faux professional before continuing, 

"Welcome Armaund, to your new home, its harsh, its dangerous, and its the jealous sort, so you better get comfortable. We call our little village, The Grove, and as long as you follow our rules we don't have to throw you or your friends out on your asses. We don't have much, and what we do have we worked hard for. Prove you can add something of use and don't take advantage of us and everything will be good times and smiles. Act like idiots, and you'll have to learn what it's like to live on an island filled with monsters alone. Need something to note that down with?" she asked her eyes still watching you closely despite the playful dry tone of your voice.

"We're all in the same boat here, so don't feel like you gotta push yourself to play nice, we aren't gonna leave you out to dry unless you screw us, so no need for forced smiles at a time like this, got it?" She said, her fake smile softened into a real one. "You got all the time in the world now that you are stuck here no need to rush things."

Armand gives a genuine smile and nods. "We do not wish to cause you trouble. We are all friends here and do not want to intrude on your ways. Although, staying here permanently is not an option." He stops himself for a moment. He stands as if he wished to say more but was unsure of something. Instead he simply shakes his head and smiles again. "I really must go speak with my companions but I thank you again for your help." He gave another brief nod as he turned around quickly, almost stumbling, as he made his way to his friends' tent.

As Armand made his way to the tent walking in with a sense of urgency, yelling to his companions as he entered. His demeanor changed from being relaxed and jovial with Mira to one of determination. "Raynolt! Veritas! I'm not dead and we have work to do!"

Mira watches Armand go looking like she wanted to call after him before thinking better of it simply shaking her head, and turning back to the group, motioning everyone to get back to work.

---

You make your way back up the beach into the mixture of huts and make shift buildings. The one she pointed you towards was actually one of the largest huts made of a large section of ship. From the side of which hangs a giant stone unicorn, that has a steady stream of white smoke billowing from the horn. As you push your way inside the eight foot tall entryway, you are greeted by the heat of a forge and the clinking of metal as you enter a space that is one part blacksmith, one part storage shed, and one part living quarters. Going up a ladder into the second story you find a small living quarters with the two men sprawled out amongst a pile of pillows and grass rugs.

Both men are still wearing the same clothes as they were on the ship. Without a detailed look, it seems like they suffered little more then a few scraps and bruises. Although, Vertias' arm is lightly bandaged, and Raynolt seems to have the lion's share of the wounds. one hand gripping the corner of the half elf's over coat.

More interesting however, while they both seem to stir at the sound of your voice, they don't wake up but quickly fall back asleep as if they were in a dream they didn't want to wake from.

Armand stopped and looked at the two sleeping for a moment as a smile of relief slowly came across his face. Despite his rush, he really was concerned for the two men and was happy to see they were mostly in good shape. A sense of calm came over him as the comfort of knowing he wasn't alone here came into his head. The memories of the night their ship sank flooded back to him as he stood there and realized how lucky they really were. Especially, seeing how he really did seem to take most of the punishment. He leaned in the doorway, partly to steady himself but also just to appreciate the moment. They had all almost died just a few days ago and were all lucky to be alive. Armand just stood there in the doorway for a couple minutes, just appreciating the gift of a second chance that they had been given.  Whether by fate or the gods, Armand did not care, because he did not plan to squander it.

He decided he'd let them sleep long enough. He made his way to Veritas' bed and slowly sat on the edge. He then proceeded to softly shake Veritas awake. "Veritas, it's time to wake up!" Armand takes a closer look at his sleeping companion's condition as he tries to stir him from his slumber.

As you go gently shake the younger man awake, breaking him out of whatever dream held him, sharp static jumps from his shoulder into your palm. Just as you are shaking out the numbness in your hand, the half-elf and his companion begin to stir for the first time their eyes slowly opening with deep rattling breaths.

"Awww-" Veritas yawned before locking eyes with you, "-rmand, we're alive! We are alive right?" he asked suddenly looking around the room, as he tried his best to gain his bearings, he also tried to sit up before letting out a soft grown and sinking back into the bed.

"I think we're alive by how bad my head is hurting," came the graveled voice of Raynolt. "Glad to see all three of us made it out of that mess alive. So, before I crawl my way out of this bed just tell me how much shit we're in?"

"Did we make it to the island?"

Armand let out a small hiss of pain and surprise from the shock that quickly turned smile as he shook feeling back into his hand. It was good to see them up and about. As soon as they asked about the situation, though, the smile faded just as quickly. He let out a heavy sigh as he got up and walked across the room, taking his hat off and brush his hair back with his hand. He turned around to face them both, "We are not dead and made it to the island. The ship is beached outside but I don't know how much of the supplies survived and what hasn't been looted. We were rescued by some locals so you have them to thank for not being dead. They took care of us while we were recovering for the past. Three. Days!"

Armand put extra emphasis on the amount of time that has passed since the betrayal on the ship. If he were to be honest with himself, the fact three days had passed didn't really upset Armand. He was sure they would make up for the lost time. He was being impatient because he knew somewhere on this island was the captain who left them to die and the person responsible for his father's death, and they were after his father's life's work. He scratched the back of his neck before shaking his head and trying to let go of the anger. He could only deal with one problem at a time.

"Now here's the good news; everyone on this island who would want us dead, thinks we are now dead and we have made contact with locals who know the area. So we can try to see if they will help us as guides to move around while buying us time before probably being hunted."

"Help me sit up," Veritas asked as Armand spoke only to freeze mid movement. "-THREE DAYS!"

His face went nearly as pail as he slumped back into bed shocked at the realization. He ran his free hand over his body as if to check for open wounds even though he knew there was nothing there. You notice as he runs his hand over his face for the first time that something seems slightly off about his nose, it would be unsurprising if he smacked it when the ship crashed. Its hard to tell exactly what's different without looking closer, but your subconscious caught something.

"We owe these people a lot if they took care of us for three days. If they're stuck here like we are then I don't know how I feel about pulling them into our problems," Raynolt said as he stood with a grown, checking himself over and stepping gingerly on each foot before looking satisfied. The movement pulling you away from Veritas for a moment, before the younger half elf made about getting out of bed for the second time.

"I'm with Ray, I don't wish to be a burden. It's already my fault that I got you in this mess, all because I wanted to prove something to my father-" his head hung low as he swung himself out of the makeshift cot refusing to look you in the eyes.

"Just for the record," Raynolt cut in, "I never said we shouldn't use these people in order to survive. They've been here long enough to build homes. It would be beyond stupid not to learn about the island and what it takes to keep living here. It's probably best that we focus on the basics till we are sure that we are in top form regardless."

It is clear that this pair is still a fair bit shaken about almost drowning at sea, even if all told things could have gone far worse for the three of you. The pair continue to glance between you and the strange surroundings of the building that you are in as the half orc sits on the other side of his ward as you do, sandwiching Veritas in the middle.

"I'm glad no one died," he finally whispered.

Perception on Veritas and Raynolt

[blockquote]Rolled 1d20+6 : 13 + 6, total 19[/blockquote]

[info]Perception 19

As you look over the pair in detail, as they gather their thoughts, you notice some details about the pair that hadn't been apparent before. Although the fact that you didn't notice some of these things up to this point may be odd but not outlandish.

For instance, as you look at Veritas you notice that his torn clothing reveals that he is a fair bit more muscular then his reedy stature led you to believe. You now can see that he has a clear swimmer's build. You also only notice now a light line of a scar across the bridge of the half elf's nose. It was in clear relief due to the bruising, but it was clearly too well healed to be new from the crash. Last but not least, a small metal hope with an onyx band caught your eye on one of his ears that it is hard to say that he was wearing before.

Raynolt on the other hand, caught your attention for the complete opposite reason. Raynolt had been rough and rugged since the moment you met him, but now as you look at the man, many of his scars, while still present, seem less red and noticeable outside of a handful. You also notice that one scar that threatened one of his eyes before was nothing more then a light line now.

To add to the strangeness, as he sat down on the cot on the other side of his ward you can feel the structure sagging noticeably under his weight, an odd occurrence for someone for someone asleep for days to pack on pounds. Though he still looked as for as ever. The last thing that caught your eye was a small matching earring as the younger half elf.

[/info]

Armand anxiously rubbed the back of his neck again for a moment then sighed.  "Listen, it isn't your fault. And no one died. And we aren't in a position we can't come back from. If anything I probably could have been more forthcoming about Valerie Renard. This isn't some professional competition for glory and recognition. This is very... personal."  He gets quiet for a moment before looking up at both of his companions with a somber look.  "She had my father killed to steal his life's work. She tried to have us killed to stop us from reaching this island. She'll kill anyone who gets in her way. But we have an advantage that she doesn't,"  Armand then smiles wide as he walks up to the other two and claps them on their backs.  "The reason she is trying to take us out is because she knows we're better. Now get some clothes on and come with me outside. We need to see what's left of our ship."

[info]Diplomacy: [blockquote]Rolled 1d20+3 : 6 + 3, total 9[/blockquote][/info]

It seems like your attempt to raise the spirits of the two boys, especially with Veritas, had little affect to change their moods, but at least it didn't seem like it made anything actively worse. As you slam into the pair's back however the sting seems to get them both out of their stupors.

"Armand is right-" Veritas sighed, "We can't just sit here forever. We'll get ourselves ready and meet you outside."

---

Within a few short minutes the three of you had gathered outside in the island sun in what remained of your adventuring gear, and what few rags were required to hold the rest together. You lack weapons, defenses, shelter, food, safety, and prospects. But at least you have your lives, warm sun at your backs and a chance to write your own destiny. You three have made it this far, there is no turning back now.

"Well it seems like the three of you are in good spirits. I'm glad to see you three up and about!" Mira said as she had come to check on you.

"It's rare that people end up surviving the barrier storm together, so its good to see every now and again when it happens. So what's next for you three?"