[@Pyromaniacwolf] [@Typical] [hr][h3]Chapter I[/h3]"While in this moment you haven't the materials to affix the stone to the wood, you could attempt other means, hopeful that they would be so long lasting or function in return or by perhaps sacrificing some of your precious few materials... or by mere quality of being a crafty mind. Debating among your crude tools, you shoot suspicious stares off into the wild wood around you, worried that despite the tranquil morning, sun clocking nearer and nearer to noon, that your bout of fortune in quiet and serenity after the thoughtless horrors only hours before would not last. Your suspicion is not without place either, who knows what manner of thing lived or lives within this place or just who else, and dread to think of it what else, survived the seas on to the beach."

"At this brief impasse now, just what to make said spears out of, you can only hope that you will not need them. A child of the sea you might be and based upon your tattoos that line the inner meat of your arms, a true sailor at that, the use of said weapons is not strange, but you are at disadvantage here. Some crucial parts of your memory lie lost to the darkness, perhaps only to surface again later or if dared to be dredged through, but there is sufficient familiarity with these poles and wicked stones that you are not hapless before any would-be aggressor here."