<div class="floatleft">(http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5zA9G_HrMvY/S9Hh8O3MKnI/AAAAAAAALG8/iuvKDQl0Siw/s1600/brandon_stoughton8.jpg)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Arvad Cree<br/><strong>Location:</strong>City->Supply room<br/><strong>Time &amp; Date</strong>: Day 1 | Afternoon<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Marisol, Rachel, Finn +open<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Being carried to the surgeon<br/>Arvad would have responded to the big brute of a man, but as he was lifted, he had to clamp his mouth shut with an audible click to avoid swearing and/or puking. He wasn't having either. As he was carried, he tried to help them by semi-walking, but his legs were still wobbily. His vision was constantly swiming and forced him to close his eyes. That seemed to help with the pain and nausea a bit. When he wasn't going to puke by opening his mouth, he spoke simply and to the point. "Wasn't beaten. Indispensable to merchants."<br/><br/>Unfortunately, that was the extent of what he could say as his stomach started to roil. He actually did have some of his stomach rise into his mouth, but he swallowed to avoid a mess. He was already a stow away, intentional or not, he didn't need to cause a mess and anger the crew even more.<br/><br/>As they rose up the stairway, the light increased substantially, causing him to hiss and turn his head. Even though the light was hurting his night eyes, at least his head wasn't throbbing and his nausea was all but gone. "If you mean,did I trim the sails, work the hallyard, or handle the rudder? No. But I have sailed and worked. I make maps. I worked alongside the navigator and helped man the crow's nest to determine safe paths of travel."