[h2][center]Kjetil Svendsen[/center][/h2]

Kjetil's mind was the first to awaken as he slowly felt two sensations. One was annoying, was it pain that he has grown used to? Maybe and this annoying sensation, he could feel it on his back. The second sensation was an odd one, warmth he felt, and that one was the one that he wondered about the most. "What," he said softly as he opened his eyes and was greeted by the blinding sun. He put his right hand over his face so he could see, and the first thing he noticed was several cuts on his arm. Like one cut over an old scar, Kjetil looked carefully at his arm. "Is that... yeah, that is blood." 

Then he looked at his other arm, and it was the same, cuts all over it but small ones. However, the amount meant that something had happened to him last night. "The ship," he said as he tried to remember what had happened the night before. There was laughter and dance, and everyone was in high spirits as they cleared the Peninsula and then... Kjetil remembers feeling a sense of weightlessness and then some odd but terrible sounds that he did not understand what could have caused them. That was it, the rest was fuzzy, and now he is in an unknown place and with who knows who else.        

He slowly got halfway up into a sitting position and used his left arm to prop himself up. Now Kjetil had a better view of the bench, and what he saw did not help with the situation. Wreckage, bodies, and it just left him wondering what in the gods' name happened last night. They were home free, now they were wrecked on a bench, and who knows who else survived.    

True Kjetil is made of sterner stuff and can handle wounds that would make others bedridden. The pain he feels is just annoying. Bearable but annoying. But there is still a chance that some others survived. Though from what bodies he could see, they did not look like they would be getting up any time soon, especially that one with no legs. 

Either way, Kjetil had to try to find someone that was still alive. There is strength and safety in numbers. That and he needs someone to help clean his wounds, bandage them, and see how bad his back is. That is where the annoying sensation is coming from. The last thing he needs is to die of a infection after getting this far in life and surviving what happened to the ship. Such an end is not fitting for a warrior and not one he wishes to die by. 

So after getting his bearings and getting up. Kjetil walked down the bench, looking for anything to use to bandage his wounds and for any sign that someone was alive. He can't be the only one that survived, he thought. Otherwise, he would be alone in an unknown land with no direction of where to go. Kjetil simply calmly sighed at the thought and continued on his search. There was bound to be something of use to him. Either makeshift bandages, people, or preferably both.