One by one, people were moving.  Although they were vastly outnumbered by the bodies that didn't.  She spotted the twisted corpse of a sailor who had mocked her seasickness and turned away - she hadn't liked the man but she certainly hadn't wished this for him.  The turn of her head brought her gaze to a cook though, who had seemed a good man.  She squatted over his corpse for a moment but it didn't take the healing skills she had learnt in the temple to see he was dead.  He had never mentioned a god but she muttered a prayer to Deneir and, after a moment's thought, to Shaundakul, the patron of travellers.  She closed his eyes and continued to approach the group.<br/><br/>At each corpse she squatted and repeated the prayers, adding in what she knew of them where appropriate.  A prayer to Gond for the carpenter, best wishes for the family of the grizzled sailor who had saved up two voyage's worth of wages to have a small portrait of them painted.  Death after death.  Ahead of her someone was waving at another survivor and she glanced up for a moment to take them and the other survivors in.  The dark elf had survived - the Bitch Umberlee wouldn't take one like her when she could be left alive to work her evil.<br/><br/>"Can anyone make a fire?" she asked as she approached Shae and waited with her for the man in red to approach.  "Cold is going to be a real problem soon."