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The sound of a quill scribbling upon a page of a notebook is the only sound that fills the private cabin Morgan had paid for himself...well sans the sound of the wind blowing outside that is. He was in the process of taking down notes of his experiences as well as sketching a number of sights he saw on this journey to Stormreach. Admittedly this was a fine voyage, but to his years of adventuring and writing this was a rather bland start to the adventure. With a quiet sigh, Morgan finishes up his notes and decides to wander about the ship in the meantime. After putting out and cleaning his smoking pipe, he then hides away his writing material. Making one final check of his belongings, Morgan put on his backpack and grabbed his walking stick before leaving his cabin.

Life was bustling in the lower deck of the massive ship. Dozens upon dozens of travelers were present and in various states of motion. Some were relaxing and appreciating the placidity of the flight while others were wandering around the ship, curious of the marvel of an airship they were on. Wandering further in the hold, he observed a bard entertaining a group of children with a miniature stage play. Morgan smiled at the sight before continuing his way through the ship. He didn't get too far before a massive blast of wind caused the ship to tip and causing a number of the passengers to stagger. Morgan managed to keep his footing but the suddenness of the gale of wind was extremely strange. [color=peru]"What in the nine hells was that?"[/color] He asked more confused tone than irate.

He did not have to wait for an answer as a blast of frozen air slammed into the side of the ship and caused massive damage to the flying vessel; sending it plummeting down like a bird that had it's wing torn off. It was chaos in the lower deck, screams of both young and old filled the air along with the sound of air rushing by at breakneck speeds. Morgan stuck his walking cane in between a guard rail and the wall held tightly onto it for dear life. For a few short moments, it seemed like that it would hold out, but it was all for naught as the vacuum caused by the differing air pressures was too great and tore off the already damaged wall of the plummeting ship. Bringing Morgan along, guardrail and all, into the chilly waters of the sea bellow. The impact knocked the man out completely.
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Morgan came to with a surge of pain filling his entire body as well as an extreme chill causing he soaked author to shiver like a leaf in the wind. With shaky hands he lifts himself up from the unnaturally cold sands and see the aftermath of the accident. Some were still alive, but a vast majority of the passengers were lying lifeless on the beach or quietly floating in the waves behind him. With a slight limp, he walks over to the small group of survivors and sees a somewhat familiar face of the bard. He along with two others were present. One was a halfling man and the other was what seemed to be a surviving crew member of the ship. The halfling man then explains the situation of the island as well as the situation regarding the ship and the passengers. [color=peru]"What a senseless waste of life..."[/color] Morgan muttered quietly to himself and offered a quiet but sincere prayer to the gods that the souls of the dead may find peace. The halfling then told them that if they were ready, they should meet up in his tent on the nearby hill so he could treat their wounds. It was then the bard and the sailor introduced themselves. [color=peru]"Ah, apologies for my rudeness. My name is Morgan Sterling Whitaker. Feel free to call me Morgan."[/color]