<strong>PC</strong>Brogan (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=683441)<br/><strong>Location</strong>Top deck/ Below deck /Top Deck<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>Galacia, Any<br/><hr/>Brogan was grateful that there was enough room on the lifeboat for him and Galacia. But with the fresh memory of the dead and dying sailors on the ship they were escaping, Brogan had a suspicion that there would be -more- room available on the lifeboats, because it was clear a good number of those aboard the ship would perish along with it. Brogan's eyes settled on the captain as she stoically accepted her fate. The half-orc did not see her so much as flinch as her ship was consumed around her. She was resigned to her death, to the the fact that the remainder of her life could be counted in seconds, not hours or days or years.<br/><br/>The lifeboat pushed away as the hungry flames devoured the ship, only to ironically be devoured themselves by the sea. Brogan knew that their chances of survival were very slim now, tossed into a tiny lifeboat with few provisions amidst the throes of a storm. Still, Brogan was not like the captain - he would fight to his last breath for survival, and he was quick to help the crew cover the lifeboat as best they could with the tarp.<br/><br/>He cast more than one glance towards Galacia, hopeful that she was well. She -looked- well enough, with no visible damage to her person, but Brogan knew there were also wounds of the mind that individuals offered suffered, invisible and deep, and every bit as debilitating as wounds of the body. But here, now, all he could do was hope that she was ok. During the first hour, he fished a linen tunic from his belongings and pulled it on over his body. He dare not don his armor when he might find himself floating in the ocean at any moment, only to sink to his doom.<br/><br/>Men were sick and men were hopeless as the lifeboat bobbed and endured the sea's tossing, as if it were angry that the lifeboat and its occupants had survived. But later that morning, as darkness and the storm both began to ebb away, it appeared the the lifeboat would survive at least a little longer. Slowly the spirits of those aboard began to rise, hope renewed with the retreat of the storm and the arrival of daylight, and as their sight became clearer, great cheers went up as not only other survivors were spotted, but land as well.<br/><br/>It seemed the fates were kind to them. Brogan was certain the sun would rise and they would not see land in any direction. But as luck would have it, they were not so far away. How bitter a pill it was to swallow, then, to know that the ship was within a day's flight of their destination, so close to safety and sanctuary, only to be swallowed up by the sea so close to their goal? Brogan knew he should be thankful, and he was, and not for the first time on the trip had he wondered if the fate of those sailors left on the ship was perhaps the same fate his father had met all those years ago.<br/><br/>The celebration grew more serious, with rum being passed around as well as food. While Brogan heartily accepted some cheese, he declined spirits for now. He wasn't against them, but they were about to make landfall, and Brogan needed to have his senses about him for the rest of the day. Perhaps that evening, when his affairs were settled might he partake in a glass of something more stiff than water or coffee, but for now, he waved off any offer of rum that came his way. He noted, too, that Galacia avoided imbibing, and her quiet demeanor made the half-orc wonder if she were almost -disappointed- to have survived. Perhaps she lost someone of importance aboard the ship? A friend or loved-one? Most likely, he surmised, she was simply as anxious as the rest of them to be ashore, and in that regard Brogan could not blame her.<br/><br/>The sculpture on the shore, a colossal leg of stone sticking out of the ground caught Brogan's attention. He could only imagine how tall the -complete- statue must have been. What ancient people could have constructed such a thing - and where were they now?<br/><br/>His thoughts were refocused suddenly when the ship came ashore. Several of the sailors leaped out as if they had never been on land before. Brogan awaited his turn, making sure Galacia had any assistance she might need to debark as well. He grabbed his pack, his armor and shield still tightly roped to it, and hoisted it over his shoulder. His eyes settled on the village before him, and though the near-death experience on the sea was now behind him, he was well aware that his future was likely going to be just as perilous.<br/><br/>Without thinking about it and without intention, Brogan ended up walking in the same direction Galacia did, toward the sprawl of buildings huddled on the shore before them.