Serilla the Fair groaned as she came to on the shore of the island. She felt...like she'd been drinking<em>far</em>too much, and hissed, shaking her head as she looked around, blinking in confusion.<br/><br/>She was in her robe, as normal, and had her signet ring still, she noted with relief. And making her even happier, she could see a few of her other items scattered on the beach nearby, primarily a circlet and some bracelets, though it looked like most of her clothing was gone forever. The enchanted sash of fruit seemed to have survived, though. Then she looked at the crew-members and cringed. She'd never seen a dead person before, and slowly gathered what things she could.<br/><br/>Serilla was short as an elf normally came, about five and a half feet and thin, though reasonably shapely and with perfect, pale skin and pink hair that reached the middle of her back. It was a hopeless tangle, and her eyes lit up as she spotted a hairbrush, intent on fixing her hair. Her robe was nearly transparent when worn, which slightly worried her...but it was at least enchanted, so it'd hold out for the while.<br/><br/>But once her hair was dealt with, Serilla hesitated, then began picking through the wreckage, murmuring softly. "Damn it...well, maybe there's a scroll or something for people who wreck? I need to get someone to rescue me. Or other supplies could be useful."