Aftermath[]
Gods. It’s been a day since the... explosion, I suppose. Whatever horror struck the capital and turned the seas to ink.
We’ve finally made landfall on the blessed shore. What else were we supposed to do? We were down to our last rations and had nowhere else to go! Of course we tried to make anchor.
Wasn’t Galuf’s fault we crashed. The fog on the shore was dark, this strange mist everywhere… though the dock was undamaged, just as we saw it the last time we were here. We pulled alongside it, but the next moment, a broken ship rose out of the water right in front of us, broken planks melding back together as if time walked backward!
I’ll claim responsibility for the call, but not the catastrophe. What mortal could have dreamed this up? Phantom workers still haul goods toward ships that shatter, sink, and reform!
We need supplies. We’re going to have to go inland.
Village is worse than the docks. No trouble so far, but everything’s...suspended. Haven’t found any bodies, but the folk here clearly aren’t among us any longer. Look like they’re made of fog.
Tried talkin’ to a few. Few even start to talk back, but it’s like they’re having an entirely different conversation.
Found our supplies, though. Enough staves and oil to patch us up and see us shoved off this awful place. Only trick is, the building keeps crashing to the ground, then reforming. Pemcha’s started to time it. Get about a minute and a half between shatterings. Given how much we need, means we’ll be here at least a few days.
Someone’s alive! Young man found Galuf while he was hauling oil from the broken warehouse. Galuf brought him back. Pale as can be, said he’s been on his own these past days, hiding in the Vault. We brought him back, shivering, to our ship. He said there were others in there, trapped but alive.
He’s a mess about it. “Poor lost souls,” he keeps saying of them. We’ve been on the outskirts just a night or two and the place has made us nearly mad. Still, the whole crew agreed, we won’t let the isles take more lives. Even Pemcha, the sour old grote. Warms the heart, it does.
We’ll finish patching up our ship, then head into the Vault and see who we can find.
