[color=violet]Valencia Tempest
The Quick-witted Pirate with a Gentle Heart
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*****

Valencia stirred slightly before fully regaining consciousness. The last thing she remembered was using all of her strength to help keep that scoundrel Barrington’s cursed ship afloat as it crashed through the stormy waves of an unexpected hurricane. Valencia had warned him that there was a storm on the wind, but no; he’d insisted on setting sail for the Isle of the Setting Sun in search of treasure with no more to go on than the word of an unsavory islander they’d met in a tavern.

The first thing she felt was dirt beneath her hands. Valencia took a deep breath, moving slowly to ensure that no bones were broken. All seemed well, so she opened her eyes and sat up, surveying the area around her. She was clearly shipwrecked. Valencia expected to see a sandy island or the shore of one of the bodies of land that had lain between her journey’s starting point and the Isle, but her surroundings were completely unfamiliar. Beautiful though it was, this strange place seemed to be a field of sorts, surrounded by sparse trees, with an array of mountains in the distance and a far-off forest.

The most unsettling thing was that the nearest body of water was a river. Last she’d checked, Valencia had been in the middle of an ocean. There were no rivers around for leagues. And how did she come to be in the midst of a field, nowhere near a shore or the ocean?

[color=violet]“What in blazes…” [/color]Valencia muttered to herself. She heard distant voices, and leapt to her feet, drawing her cutlass with her right hand in a single movement. She turned in the direction she'd heard the voices coming from. Nearby lay a strange assortment of people she’d never seen before; all of whom were dressed differently than each other and seemed rather out of place amid this grassy field. It was as though they had all been dumped there with no rhyme or reason. Some were still unconscious. 

In the distance, Valencia could see the figure of a man who was running away, and a more feminine figure in his pursuit. In the opposite direction stood a well-built man in full plated armor, and beyond him floated an ethereal creature wreathed in flames and darkness. Valencia felt her heart hammer into her throat. [i]I’ll be damned,[/i] she thought to herself. [i]A true and real creature of the supernatural. Perhaps I met my fate beneath the waves, and this be Davy Jones’ locker.[/i] She eyed the spirit warily, but it seemed to be remaining stationary, for the time being. Nearest to Valencia stood a girl clothed in strange garb who seemed to be just a few years younger than herself. The girl had one of her gloves off and was staring at the fire-spirit with wide eyes. 

Valencia’s palms were sweating, but she pushed aside her fear and gripped her cutlass, prepared to use it if need be. She made sure to keep an eye on the creature and the knight, but she turned her attention to the other girl who was conscious. [color=violet]“You, there,” [/color]she called to her.[color=violet] “What do you know of this strange place? Speak quickly. I will mean you no harm unless you draw arms against me."[/color]