Daeron is incredibly disoriented when he awakens. Who are these people? Where am I? How did I get here? What happened? Why was I on this ship? Why can't I remember anything? After a few moments where Daeron tried to remember anything about himself, he looks towards the survivors of whatever happened here and rushes towards the closest one (your choice as to who that is) and begins asking questions. "Who are you? Are you all right? What were we doing on that ship? Do you know where we are? What happened?" Daeron is obviously shaken as he asks these questions in a rapid-fire manner that doesn't really allow the other person to respond. He also feels odd, like there's something inside him that he can't quite put a finger on. It doesn't feel like something harmful, but it's certainly weird.
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Daeron: Half-Elven Hexblade Warlock (Ultimate Adventure Group A)| Astra: Aasimar Hexblade Warlock (Yet Another Storm King's Thunder)
Brandt: Human Gunslinger Fighter (Union)| Olive Redwall: Human Champion Fighter (Rikirta Part 1)
Messalina: Changeling Bard (Hoard of the Dragon Queen)
Anastasia Greyfallow: Human Fiend Warlock (Soldiers of Vord)
There were three things the drow learned upon awakening: that her name was Esfira, that she was laying in warm sand, and that the sun wasn't her friend. She was very firm in that last point when she made the mistake of waking up facing the sky only for her eyes to burn. Looking at her surroundings barely helped remedy this, the sun's reflection off the broken pieces of a ship and the sand itself was just near blinding.
With a hand outstretched infront her, she tried again to get her bearings while squinting her purple eyes against the sun's glare. However instead of her vision focusing, a figure rushes at her and before she can say any warnings, the man launches into a series of questions. It was almoat dizzying at how fast each question was spoken, interrupting any answer she may have provided.
"Slow down!" She finally barks at him, finally getting a good look at him. It seems he had already finished his questioning however. "My name is Esfira. I'm okay, I think," she pauses to look down at herself. Other than water logged clothes that are torn in places, she did seem alright. "I don't know anything about a ship, I dont know where this place is, and I'm going to guess a crash happened. I don't know anything else."
That made her nervous. Why don't she know anything? What happened before waking up? "Were we on a ship? Are you the only other person here?"
"I apologize. I didn't mean to barrage you with questions like I'm interrogating you. I'm just rather disoriented by this entire situation and proper etiquette was an afterthought for a moment. My name is Daeron. Unfortunately I don't seem to know anything beyond that and I was hoping you knew something, which was why I made my hasty series of inquiries a second ago. We must have been on a ship, since we're on this island with all these people. But your guess is as good as mine as to what happened, but I think that you're right in assuming that we've crashed, since some of these people look like they might have perished. Perhaps the two of us suffered some injuries in the crash and that is why we can't remember anything." Daeron rules against asking this woman if she feels odd as well. He already freaked her out with his rapid-fire questioning, he didn't need to cause further distress by making her think that he was more off than he already was. And besides, it's likely just the aftereffects of being in a crash. It'll pass in time.
Slowly waking to the sound of a lot of questions and a bit of conversation off to the side of him is an ashen haired, dusky skinned elf. He doesn't sit up nor open his eyes, but he shifts around a bit to get more comfortable and covers his face with his arm as to attempt shielding his eyes from the sun. He lays motionless until the waves touch the new wound on his left calf. With a fiery grunt from the pain he sits upward, his piercing green eyes for the first time taking in the scene around. "Well, this is subpar"he mumbles to himself as he watches the retreating wave swallow the blood it stole just moments ago. Looking around he sees the people and pieces of ship all around him. Watching the vicious wave return for more blood he looks behind towards the dry sand and begins looking for a way to get there before he temporarily vanishes and reappears in the same position atop the dry sand. (He used fey step (misty step) by wishing to get away from the water.)
His inner voice now wondering how he managed to do that as well as attempting to repeat it to no avail. He takes a quick breath before the pain returns in his leg due to the soaked, torn pants. Now safe from the water he tears his pants at the knee, creating shorts, but ultimately keeping the salt from burning into his wound and tears his already torn shirt into strips to create a wrap for his calf. His back displays an alarming amount of scars as well as an unreadable tattoo on his left shoulder blade that seems to predate the scarring. Looking toward the two elves "Some of the people around don't look like they're going to be getting back up; are you two alright?" He lays back allowing the hot sand to burn into his back closing his eyes and covering his face with his arm once more.
"Its quite alright, Daeron," she said with a dip of her head, her senses slowly waking up with the rest of her. "Given our circumstances I don't expect decorum to be the first thing on anyone's mind." With that she rose to her feet, one of which was bare a slipper, however with how foggy her memory was she wasn't entirely sure if that was due to the crash, or if for some mad reason she had done this on purpose beforehand. Looking to her tattered skirt and tunic, she is hoping it was the former. "We should try to find other survivors, see how we can help them. Someone has got to have an answer around here."
Her eyes, while not quite seeing perfectly in direct sunlight, is at least now starting to tolerate it somewhat. As she scanned the beach (slowly, to her frustration), the sound of a new voice brings her attention to the elvish man just before he lays down in the sand.
The more you look around, the more you realize how many bodies there are. About a dozen of corpses (not including you guys) are scattered about the beach, and in the water, all showing different levels of damage, and all seeming to have flown out of the ship during the crash. You can all safely assume that there are more still in the small vessel.
Panavor bit further away from the rest seeing atleast some sight of live he shout to the rest "If you guys can stand it would be handy if you can salvage anything usefull out this mess!". He then take another breath and keep shouting "Some food, equipment or even some dry clothing would be blessing right now!" Panavor then keep searching the shore for any crates or whatever else dragged on the shore.
Daeron casts aside his ruined jacket and vest, leaving him with only a simple undershirt as he responds to the elf who just called out. "Yes, the two of us seem to be all right. I'm Daeron and this is Esfira. You wouldn't happen to remember what happened before the crash do you? It seems that we can't remember what happened before we arrived. Perhaps the trauma of the crash caused us to lose our memory." As Daeron speaks, he approaches the elf and notices his wounds. "Can you still move with that?"He looks out at Esfira and the new half-elf that he sees searching the shore. "This man is hurt. Do either of you think that you can assist him?"
More people were good, Esfira told herself when hearing the half-elf further away. It means others may be alive as well, and she needed to kick herself into gear to help these people... somehow. She didn't exactly know how she was going to help, but she knew she needed to try. "I'll join you in a moment to help search!" she shouted back at the newest half-elf. At the moment, her focus was on Daeron's question, and as she drew closer to him and the man laying in the sand, her attention quickly focused on the elf's bleeding leg.
Esfira knelt down beside him, and removed the improvised bandage to take a better look at it. There was a pause as she inspected the wound, a very soft feeling washing over her. This situation was familiar in someway, but the memory still eluded her. But she didn't fight the soft warmth that swelled in the pit of her being all the way to her hand. She placed it gently over the wound, and she could have sworn she could hear a faint whisper of someone, but couldn't quite catch the words. But it seemed pleased.
"Yeah, actually -" he pauses to think "- it -" he rubs his chin "perhaps we drank a bit too much - because I don't remember anything myself." As the drow gets near his leg he attempts to stop her from messing with it "no, it's fine no need to mess with it -" but as she touches the wound and the wound seals up mostly "- OK, yeah that feels quite a bit better now. how'd you manage to do that?" He jumps up to his feet for the first time since waking, to even more of his surprise his leg doesn't hurt. He reaches over his shoulders and behind his back wiping the sand off and upon feeling the scars he pauses and looks over his right shoulder taking a good look at the scars he can visibly see. Now on his feet the elf stands about 6' tall; he puts both of his sandy hands on the drow's shoulders "thank you" he looks toward the half-elf who is currently searching bodies; standing above this sea of motionless bodies brings a bad feeling upon him that begins making him feel uneasy.
Investigation -> 11
Intelligence -> 6
/e I rolled an intelligence check to see if standing above dead bodies felt familiar to him, and since it doesn't he has no reason to search for a weapon of some sort. Investigation check is no longer needed.
Joining up with the rest of the elf in respond to daeron. "My name Panavor, sadly my only memorie i have was sleeping in a dark room sleeping on the floor only to wake up with my face in the sands with my clothes soaked and surrounded by motionless bodies."
He stares at the ragged clothes of one of the dead bodies. "Whatever the past life may have been i doubt it was glorious, neither myself or the death bodies i searched had anything beside these dirty clothes, not even one copper coin."
He then look inland seing the landscape (just wanna know what kind landscape we landed on)
Esfira's magic caused Daeron to go into his own mind. How did she do that? Was that magic? Can I use magic?"Esfira, how did you heal this man?" While he waits for a response, Daeron closes his eyes and begins to focus on whatever it is that he thinks is within him. It felt like there was energy inside him.What is this energy? Where did it come from? Am I powerful?
That was a very good question. How did she do that? Esfira looked down to her hands and shook her head. "I'm... not quite sure myself. It felt familiar though, whatever it was. There was this feeling in me and--" she cut herself short with a cough, deciding not to tell them that she believed she heard a voice from somewhere. There was plenty of weird things already on their plate. "Never mind that now. If I can heal then I can help."
Esfira moves over to the closes body she can see, trying to decern if they are still alive.
(Savan) You do not know any of these people, but, looking over them, you have a weird sensation, but you can't quite tell what it is.
(Panavor) You are on a beach that stretches for miles on either side, far to the left (if you're looking towards the mainland) there are docks that connect the barely visible village, to the water. Looking at the sun, it could be anytime from 9am to 11am.
(Esfira) Moving from body to body, you do not find any that are still alive. You go to the last corpse, find that it is dead, then as soon as you turn around, A hand grabs onto your ankles.