Before Legend's Forgery the biggest "ship" that Elliot had been in was a row boat for a fishing trip his Uncle had prepared for when he had just turned ten. He was completely unprepared for the scale of such a vessel as the Legend's Forgery. Compared to everything he had seen before, the landlocked young man was amazed by the ship. Unfortunately, Elliot could not afford to appreciate the Forgery fully due to the circumstances of the current pandemic.

The entire storm he clutched onto the journal he had recorded all observations he made about the plague. The ship groaned and grumbled in the storm and Elliot's heart could barely take it. The whole time he told himself that he would never ever board another ship like this in his life as soon as his feet touched soil. This would certainly be his last cruise. When he felt the ship sinking he simply closed his eyes and held onto the journal as hard as he could. Were the fates to decide this was his time to die, so be it.

[hr]

Elliot felt cold water lapping up his feet and part of his calves. His whole entire body ached from the stress of tumbling through turbulent waters and being tossed ashore. He groaned in pain and discomfort, but kept his eyes closed. He could hear chatter around him, but he paid no mind to it while he took the time to recover his wits. Well, that would have been ideal if moments after his groan someone had not roughly smacked his cheek to wake him up.

Elliot slowly opened his eyes to woman of a rather messy appearance. He vaguely remembered her being called Temp. Elliot sat up slowly as the stinging feeling lingering on his cheek helped distract him away from the pain the rest of his body felt. He rubbed his cheek in an attempt to soften the feeling and looked at Temp.

[color=lightgreen]"Thanks."[/color]

He scanned the area quickly and noticed one important thing was missing: his journal. His eyes shot wide open fully alert. [color=lightgreen]"Uh, have you seen my journal?"[/color]

He imagined that no one would think of a journal as important for their survival, but those recordings of the plague could be saved for the future in order to save lives. Mentioning it now seemed like a waste of time.

He shook his head. [color=lightgreen]"Sorry, bad question."[/color]

Elliot got to his feet and looked around one more time. The journal was nowhere to be seen. There were several other survivors, however the beach was entirely barren besides them. Several points of light caught his eyes and he stared at each of them for a few moments each. Firelight meant there likely was going to be people. Possibly other survivors. Possibly natives. The yellow light he saw to the north felt unnatural, however documenting and learning about such a phenomena could prove worthwhile. If he walked along the shore he could possibly find the journal washed up somewhere, but he knew the odds of recovering it were small.

He then turned his attention to the others. There appeared to be a discussion as to what to do next. For now he had nothing to add to the conversation, and he simply waited and watched. Two questions echoed in the back of his mind: where were they? What did they need to know to survive here?