The ship was swarmed by the lastragonian crew and strange creatures none present had ever seen. The Rastevere was lost, the captain killed. All that was left was his final order; abandon ship. So they did. Even if the gorun sailor had to pull several people toward the water himself. He could see in the chaos, several people attempting to stand and fight. His own kin raised blade against the invaders. “I’m sorry” he shouted in the ear of the human arcanist as they neared the edge of the ships. Rather unceremoniously, the gorilla sized gorun pulled the spellcaster off his feet, throwing him hard into the bloodfilled water. He turned back to scan the deck once again, only to find himself face to chest with one of the lastragonian invaders. The enormous beast made the gorun feel like how he had seen ceratogis look at him. The invader hefted a sword native to the Rastavere, though it looked like a kitchen knife in its hands.
Before he could react, the blade had collided with his shoulder, slicing easily through skin, flesh, and slightly into the bone. He roared in pain, looking for any opportunity to escape. His prayers were answered quickly however, as one of the ceratogi crew climbed the back of his attacker. Their legs straddling the creature’s massive neck and one hand holding the back of it’s frill; they hacked at the back of their enemies skull. When his attacker turned around, the gorun had the perfect view of this ceratogi who was saving him and the damage they decisively weren’t doing. Reaching out, he wrapped his good hand around the waist of the ceratogi, and kicked off from the ship. There was a scream of alarm and fear for the second before the two hit the water below.
He could not see anything. The water was filled so heavily with the blood of who knows how many victims? It was as if the two had fallen into a vast red void. The only way to know it was in fact the ocean, was the pain as the massive gash on his shoulder flooded with seawater. Kicking off something, the gorun sailor found himself finally at the surface. He watched as the ships shook with great impacts. The sound of splintering wood and final screams of fear or pain assaulting his ears. He couldn’t do anything but swim. He had to swim toward shore. The ceratogi was a couple strokes ahead of him, thankfully. He could see a couple of his kin in the water around them. Hopefully they could help him get everyone up that strangely small cliff onto the shore of the island.
With eyes locked on his destination, the gorun swam as fast as the pain would allow him. He watched as people ahead of him disappeared underwater, the blood in the water spreading further and further from the epicentre of chaos. But he could see four people already on shore. It was possible to make it! Just as he could barely see what looked like a coral bank through the water, the water around him seemed to simply vanish. He was suspended in air, thrown forward by his own momentum onto the sharp rock-like embankment. The coral, unyielding, sliced at him as he rolled atop it. The water continued to seemingly avoid him. The gorun stood, looking at the space around him, and the rolling waves that bounced off this strange cylinder that was no wider than his armspan. Glancing toward shore he quickly understood what was happening. Alderwood, the ‘arcanist’ was focusing some form of spell on him.
“Keep that going!” He shouted over the crashing waves and screams of the people in the water. Instead of moving toward shore, the gorun strode along the coral bank toward a frantic human swimmer. As he drew near, the water beneath her fell away, dropping her hard onto the coral. He could hear crunch of something breaking, though wasn’t exactly sure what even as he lifted the woman up to lay her across his wounded shoulder. That arm wasn’t going to be able to pick anyone up on its own, so he may as well have carried people on it. With each step, he could feel the coral slice into his feet and crack or shatter under his weight. As he turned and started moving to intercept a swimming irwinian, the human woman still weighing down his shoulder, the gorun closed his eyes. He wanted to throw the woman to shore, but there was noone to catch her. With his one good arm, the gorun scooped up the irwinian, catching the man mere hairs widths from the coral. Something was moving in the water as close as it could get to him. The sailor could see a small fishtail breach the water occasionally near him. It was as if he was being circled.
Several people were at the small cliff waiting for him after he rounded a crevice to cross a small rocky bridge. “Get up” Alderwood called to him as the gorun had turned away from the land to once again search for survivors. “Everyone else is dead. Just get up here” The arcanist shouted at him. After sweeping the water with one final glance, the gorun resigned himself to agreeing. Two elves on the shore hung their arms down to attempt to help him up. He was glad of the aid, rolling onto his side when finally on solid ground that itself didn’t hurt.
A human woman rushed over to the massive sailor. The ‘tourist’ hadn’t noticed the gash in his fur, perhaps his fur fell in the right manner to disguise it. Her goal was his feet. The bottom of the gorun’s feet was bare skin, and so with no protection, the damage could easily be seen. It looked as if a sadist had attacked the poor man with shards of broken glass. “Oh. Oh this is going to hurt.” She muttered to him before looking up at an apparently random irwinian. “Find me some kind of dry fabric. The more the better.” She then whispered some kind of apology before reaching into some of the wounds on his foot. Each time her fingers pried apart his wounds, the gorun could feel other things being jostled about and cutting away at him. Yet, every time she pulled her hand away, she dropped a piece of coral onto a small pile beside her. “Why do I always see goruns not wearing shoes? Are all tailors just racist or something?” She muttered to herself, snatching the fabric from the irwinian’s outstretched hand.
After checking there were no more pieces of coral in his first foot, the woman sighed. “I wish we had some water to wash it with. We’re going to have to find some.” She then wrapped the gorun’s entire foot in the fabric before moving to look at the other one.
“We should introduce ourselves and take stock of what we have; both materials and skillsets. My name is Yvereian. I’m one of the Rastavere’s crew, or was.” The irwinian who had handed the woman some fabric spoke to the group, apparently trying to take charge or at least control the situation.
“Shove it up your ass Yvereian, even if now was the time; there’s twelve of us and only four aren’t sailors.” One of the human males snapped back before looking out at the ocean. “Nows not the time to try and strongarm leadership. Give people a moment to compose themselves.” The two collided ships simply sat in the water, parts of the hulls slowly falling away into the water as everything seemed to calm down. No lastragonians were visible in the water, on shore, or even walking about the deck of either ship. Perhaps they were gone. The survivors could only be so lucky.
“Of course, Mr. John Lossan.” The irwinian smiled, bowing slightly. “I just thought it might be for the best if the passengers knew who they were stranded with. And we need to decide what we’re going to do. This is famously the most dangerous island in the world afterall.” The irwinian bowed, his long spindly arms bending one in front and one behind him, it looked as if he could grab his own elbows if he so desired. He turned to the other elves, his voice remaining steady and calm as he spoke. “Do any of you have medical training. We’re going to need a doctor here after all.”
Meanwhile, the human woman had moved to examine the rest of the gorun’s body. When he flinched at her touch of his upper arm, she slowed her examination, using her hand as a fan to blow the fur around until the wound in his shoulder became clear. “Hmm, okay sir? I can’t bandage this cut up. And it’s going to need to be cleaned as soon as possible.” He nodded, moving to sit up only to find her hand on his chest, just below his throat. “I’m going to tie it closed, but you need to avoid using it okay?” The gorun nodded, turning his head away from the wounded shoulder so as not to be in her way. The woman started grabbing small clumps of fur on either side of the cut and twisting them into short rope-like strands. With as much force as she seemed able, the human pulled strands on either side together to tie them over the cut, holding it close with the tension alone.
“Thanks.” He sat up, making sure to cradle his arm in his lap as he looked around the survivors. Yvereian Syell was talking to the other elves, and apparently eyeing the only other gorun for some reason. “What’s your name, anyway?” He asked, looking directly at the woman and with the gentlest smile he could manage.
“Salma. Salma Al-Khashramyah. Nice to meet you.” She extended a hand before scoffing at herself and switching to the other hand.
“Simberoell Tyranos. Nice to meet you too” He took her now swapped hand in his good one, although his hand seemed almost twice the size of hers. After the small introduction, he glanced around at the group gathered on the shore of this quite deadly island. Lifting himself to standing, the gorun shuffled to the closest tree, dropping to sitting at it’s base and lean against it’s trunk. Half the humans followed suit, as did both the ceratogis. Only the elves, two humans, and another gorun remained so near the coast. “Salma, do you know those two?” He nodded to the two humans as he settled his back against the trunk of the tree.
“That’s Liz and Miles. I don’t know much about them. I think they came with some more friends, but I wasn’t paying much attention.” Salma sighed, sitting beside the large gorun as they looked out at the ocean beyond the bickering elves. “So many people call them beautiful” she whispered. “But I think they’re kind of scary. Every limb is just too long. They don’t look real. But I guess I haven’t seen many where I grew up.”
Simberoell nodded for a second before waving to the other gorun. “Kivrimma!” He wanted him to move away from the edge. With a beast like that in the water, there was no telling how far inland they’d need in order to be safe from it. But, would it even care about them now? Surely it would have eaten its fill by now. The gorun, Kivrimma, turned at the call of his name. As his right foot lifted to step forward, something reached up from over the edge to seize his left foot. In the blink of an eye, the second gorun was slammed face-first into the ground before being ripped over the side of the island. The screams of those nearest the scene drowned out those at the treeline. Simberoell forced himself to his feet, staggering quickly a couple strides forward before the pain caught up to him and he collapsed back to the ground. As a few humans and a ceratogi began attempting to pull him back toward the treeline, the gorun seized one of the elves by the arm. “Save him!”
The irwinian desperately ripped the giant hand off it’s thin arm before moving to cower by the treeline. The gorun roared out, asking why no-one would save him, the human ‘Miles’ finally answered. “It was, It was big. The size of at least 3 goruns. It had lots of legs and weird armoured plates. It held him against its belly and dove back in. I saw it move. I saw it hold him. If, if he didn’t drown, it would-” The man lowered himself to his haunches by the treeline as well, shaking quite heavily. “What the hell even was it?”
The stunned silence was eventually broken by the voice of one of the elves, shakily advising that they should move more inland. It was at this point that Yvereian found his voice, readdressing the group. “Come on. It’s clearly dangerous here. We have to move inland and find somewhere safe.” There were concerned glances among each other at these words. Was there even anywhere safe inside the forest? “This island use to be inhabited right? Surely the inhabitants had houses, right?” Seeing no alternative, many of the group slowly pushed themselves to their feet, looking into the forest and then back to the irwinian so desperate to be in charge. Among those who didn’t look to Yvereian, was Alderwood. The human did stand, but he moved to crouching near Simberoell, still not making eye contact.
“I know.” The gorun whispered, lifting himself to sitting, with his ankles being the only part of his feet to touch the ground. “But he has a point. We need to find shelter.” he groaned, pushing himself onto his feet, wincing at the pain shooting up his legs as his covered, but still mutilated feet took his weight. “If at any point we have to run. Just don’t look back. Understand?” He looked at the small group that had surrounded him. He wasn’t sure why they were looking at him, though suspected it was out of pity for his state.
The eleven survivors began their journey into the woods. It surprised Simberoell that so few were arguing with the suggestions of the irwinian. Perhaps they simply understood that in an unknown place, they would be safest moving in a group. The gorun was half followed, half supported, by a small group; the humans Alderwood, Salma, John Lossan, and Elizabeth Wrale, and the ceratogi Selle Ryat. In an attempt to lighten the mood slightly, the gorun glanced down at the accompanying ceratogi. “Didn’t happen to save the bow did you?” Though he smirked through the pain as he asked.
“Oh no! I must have left it in my other pants!” She looked up at him with a slight smile and a single raised eyebrow. “I was right though, you didn’t do shit to the one you shot at.” She shook her head before returning to nervously watching the forest around them.
“I did exactly what I meant to. I got his attention.” The massive group trudging through the forest would have attracted considerable attention. Perhaps that’s why there was no sound of birds? All the animals had fallen silent to observe their passing. Although his attention was stolen from the silence as Alderwood tapped his good arm and pointed to a clearing nearby. The forest’s almost continuous canopy was rent open in a section nearby. Husks of long felled trees lay among the overgrowth of small bushes that desperately fought for the sunlight.
But what really caught his attention was the sound of something crunching the undergrowth. The sound came from beyond the bounds of the group. And the moment he heard it, the gorun froze. It wasn’t the light click of a stick falling, or the simple crunch of something eating a dead leaf from the ground. Something had stepped toward them, something apparently big. Looking in the direction of the sound, all he could see was trees. Nothing moved, nothing the size of what he heard would even be able to hide. Perhaps he had just imagined the sound? In a dark forest, with no sound of wildlife, it was expected that his kind would hear something. He heard Alderwood whispering something he couldn’t understand before the human suddenly patted his arm again almost frantically. The gorun slowly turned his head away from the direction of the sound, only looking at the human when his whole head was pointed in his direction. The smaller man held up three fingers before looking back in the direction he himself had just glanced away from.
“We’re being hunted.” He announced loudly and clearly. Making certain that the other main group heard him. “We need to move as one big group, they’re waiting for stragglers.” He still couldn’t see what was following them. But he trusted the arcanist in how many there were. His voice dropped once again to a whisper as he walked agonisingly slowly backwards toward the other group. “Is there any birch trees nearby?”