[h1][center][u]Aldrich[/u][/center][/h1]

[i]"Filthy, worthless slave-thing!"
CRACK!
"How come you don't fight?"
CRACK!
"I will beat you until you obey!"
CRACK!

With each punctuating lash of the whip, Aldrich felt himself slipping further and further away from consciousness.  His defiance fading with not so much as a sneer, but a whimper.  The gutteral language of his Dwemerlock master remained impenetrably foreign to him, though he could scarcely hear it through his pain.  However, the most peculiar thing was that the closer he came to passing out entirely, the pain faded and he felt instead a cool, sloshing sensation suffuse his body.  His vision blurred, and he began to splutter, confused as the world began to grow increasingly distant and intangible...[/i]

...his eyes opened slowly, things coming into focus one sense at a time.  First the stark luminescence of sunlight, then the intermingled sensations of warm air, cold water and gritty sand, then the sounds of waves breaking upon the shore and the breeze rustling leaves, followed by the smell of salt and lastly the acrid taste of salt and sandy grit.  Each sensation coalesced at once in a nauseating shock that made him cough and heave as he sat up.  
He scrambled for memory, to piece together where he was and just what the hell was going on.
[i]Was on the ship...resting above decks...hate the below...too small, stifling...ship...crashed?  Must have...[/i]

He laboriously got to his feet, feeling the stiffness of his joints and a sharp sting across his chest.  Pressing his fingers to the spot they came away red.  Peering down he saw that something had torn a ragged hole in his waterlogged jerkin.  He unceremoniously tore the useless thing away, leaving him in only his tunic, breeches and boots.  Glancing around he saw the telltale sights of a terrible ship-wreck.  Bodies had washed up on the shore, bloated and cold and others stumbled around aimlessly on the shore.  His sword and shield he now realised would have likely wound up somewhere on the bottom of the sea.  He sighed, feeling the rising panic of being unarmed and unprotected.  He fought down the anxiety and looked around to take better stock of the situation.

Immediately he noticed a few of the figures who had been part of the voyage, other travelers and vagabonds like himself.  Jacqueline, a woman who reminded him in many ways of Erissia, his erstwhile mentor.  Kjetil, the quiet Norgardian and Lachlan, who Aldrich struggled to get a read on during his time on the ship.  He hadn't spoken much to any of them, opting to observe from a distance any strangers he met.  Not to mention, the bitter look on his face at all times usually kept people at bay.
Aldrich raised his voice, addressing any who may respond.
"The Captain...has anyone seen the Captain?"  If anyone among them could restore some semblance of order, it would be that salty sea dog.