The months of October and November were especially slow for our archiving elves. Seems they found little to no journals to commit to these archives. Perhaps the citizens of Crystal Shores were just to busy with upcomming holiday plans of Yule, to put their thoughts to parchment. Or perhaps, Just Perhaps the elves knew something that the residents did not! For it is obvious, in what you are about to read, that something was amiss on the isle during those two months. For during the month of December, the month when all should be expectant with holiday cheer, it was during that month that our world, as we knew it, came crashing down. The isle of Crystal Shores sunk beneath the oceans surface under the weight of a molten volcano explosion, never to be seen again.

What you are about to read here, are the words/scenes of those few who survived that catastrophie. The few that now depend upon those very same waters that stole the life from Crystal Shores. The few that had prepared ahead of time, and now base their sole existance upon mother nature and the old wooden planks of the ships that carry them.

May we present, for your prusual, the day to day life of those on board those ships, no dates are written, as time has blurred togeather for those who now refer to what once was their beloved home....as Crystal Shores Lost.

With a lantern, he is on deck; having looked out at the waters awhile, the moon shrouded by soot, so is his skin. At least he thinks it's night, anyway.

He has not spoken a single word since his confrontation with Paul, and if possible, he's grown more silent since the Isle, his beloved Isle, was swallowed by the Sea. Jane has looked at him with a mixture of care and fear. His eyes are black now, black as onyx, and cold. Gone are traces of the graphite-grey his eyes had, that could show mirth and warmth. His face is harder, his jaw taut. The winds pick up from time to time, but never have really stopped. The lantern flickers in protest. He leans on the rail a moment longer, then retrieves his worn journal, and writes in it, in the relative silence. ::

Night One

The children are in various states of upheaval. Mia is still crying; Alkane's eyes are red-rimmed but his sobs are silent. Thirlia is coughing, the soot still in her little lungs. Paulie is sneezing as well as coughing, and fussy. Mairin looks far more haunted than I have ever seen her, or could I possibly imagine.

They look like little drows, the lot of us really, faces black with ash now. Surely Jane will ask for a pail of seawater, for we cannot spare the clean water, and wash their faces come morning.

Rations are in good supply, and none have asked for anything to eat thus far. I, for one, have no appetite.

If it was not for the seed, I would likely have stayed and fallen with all that I had. Is the seed even with us anymore, or did it choke on the ash? I can't bring myself to ask Jane that right now. She has enough with which to deal, which I am not prepared to face right now.

I saw the House fall, like it was made of mud and grass, rather than stone.

I promised them a good life, and instead, I am now hypnotized by what my eyes have borne witness to, and have not made good on my promise to them, any of them.

What else have I to lose..? Was it all for naught. My mother is dead. My children and wife are unsettled. I am beside myself, ready to succumb to this bitterness as the Isle did the Sea.

My rage grows. My bitterness rises like bile in my throat. I have not said word one to those of mine below for two reasons: I've yet to find my voice, and if I do so, I predict what comes from my tongue will not be words of warmth and comfort.

They have lost what I broke my back to provide; here we are on a goddamned ship in the middle of nowhere, destination unknown. I do not wish to return to Achethe, and will only do so as a last resort, but it's not as if I even know where we are, for the sake of the Gods, at this moment.

I loved that Island as I would a woman. It possessed me, made me crave its warmth, and I never wished to leave.

Yet here I am, here we all are. I saw fins of a sharken earlier, circling the ships. Surely they'll continue to do that, as vultures on land do, unless we find somewhere else.

But I will never call another place "home." My home is gone.

As I write this, I hear one of the sharken cutting through the waters now. I will snuff the lantern so as not to attract their attention, and go back down into the cabin, perhaps my presence will encourage the children to quiet, although that's highly unlikely.

Sharken are attracted to noise, and I do not wish more confrontation in one day.

I do not deny, at this moment, that I wish I was dead. I cannot imagine anything worse happening to us.

:: He sets the book aside, and snuffs the lantern. Occasionally, the wind moves enough soot and smoke that linger in the sky away. The swimming noise stops, and a figure is bobbing in the water, like a buoy.

He waits a long while to ensure that the sharken are gone, after all down in the hold seem to have drifted to sleep, or at least silence. He takes the fish net and lowers it slowly, to move the body off of the ropes that hang, he doesn't wish entanglements. Not a sailor at heart, he knows only to keep the ropes clear.

He pulls up a body shorn in half by sharken teeth, apparently one who tried to swim to get away from the Isle as it was destroyed.

The face is clear as the moon shines through unobstructed, and Alterio gasps, his face going white beneath the soot. He'd not known that this one had returned..he wasn't told, last he knew, this one went on journey a long while ago. The body is that of his son, Breuse.

He shakes the net free, freeing his son's head, shoulders and torso. A honorable, eventual burial at sea.

He grows more silent, if possible, his blood cold, as he puts the net back in its proper place and walks to the other side of the deck, and is silently thankful when the wind grows less strong, allowing the soot to return to obstructing the moon. He reaches for his flask, and stays on deck, the air growing colder, as is he. ::

Alterio Carazzi II

Her stomach hurling itself this way and that dangerously has kept her in a cold sweat since the initial shock of what she witnessed of the isle's destruction wore off some. The numbness released her to the reason she has always feared stepping aboard a boat: sea-sickness. She forced herself to choke down some ginger root powder mixed with a bit of brandy, scared to death of the trauma her unborn child might be experiencing. That done, she took her mind away, and checked the children. A disheartening task to be sure, but each is alive. She took Paulie in her arms and fell gently onto a bunk, squeezing her eyes closed. Finally the root did its work, and she was able to sit up and find her journal, quill, and ink in the small satchel she packed.

~The world has turned itself over. I thought I'd be used to such immense upheaval by now, the loss of a home and stark uncertainty and cruel fate. I was too happy, I suppose. Things were too perfect, so it was time again for my world to end. And it did end, in the manner you read of in storybooks. Eruptions, explosions, smoke, and rubble. The images will be burned inside my skull forever.

~How will we recover? Alterio may not. I saw his eyes when the isle was taken from us. He's dead inside, and I'm so afraid that he'll never be the same again. None of us will be, I know, but it seems as though the empathy in him has fled. It was his paradise, his pride. But no matter his state, I'll chain us together if I must. I refuse to let anything tear this family from each other. We're all we have now, and not a single person is allowed to pull away. I won't let them, not if it's the last thing I do.

~Felina's attempting to take the children's minds from what's happened. She's telling them some sort of story, but it's so difficult to hear over the roar in my ears. I'm not sure if it's the wind or the waves, or just inside my head. Gods, I'd clear everyone's lungs now, to stop their coughing, if only I could use my Healing. They look so lost. They remind me of Riena.

~I suppose I'm avoiding my greatest fear. How am I to protect this child within me? Will my sea-sickness kill it? Is it already mortally harmed by the smoke I inhaled? I tried my best to hold my breath, to keep my lungs closed and my mouth covered. I've been frightened to sense for harm. What if I find the worst? How can I be strong for everyone else if part of my is dying, or worse...~

Jane Maichen Carazzi

Seeing Embrich approach,obviously looking for Ros, Char bids her friend a goodnight, knowing that no harm will come to her while Embrich is near.

Turning, she doesnt gaze out of the water for several reasons. The main one being that she couldnt stand to see anything else from the debris that was her home. Things are floating everywhere, including the body of a woman she saw but moments ago. Char heads off in a daze, heading down the narrow few steps to below deck.

There are a few "cabins" here, enough for all aboard this vessle to be comfortable. Well, comfortable as possible considering the circumstances. Somewhere in the back of her mind Char knows those on this ship have it good. At least better then most. As promised, the ship had as many of the amenities of comfort as possible. But at the moment Charquin didnt notice many of them.

She is still covered in the ocean's salty spray. The tital wave that spashed over her, not only drenched her clothing but also the salt began to make her skin "pull" and dry out, beginning to itch something feirce. Char heads into the first cabin below deck that she see's. Its a rather large room, but she doesnt bother to question why. Her things are in the corner, so obviously someone wishes this to be her room.

She sits down upon the floor, not wishing to dirty the clean linen with her ocean smell. The gods know how long they will be upon this ship and she must conserve everything she can. She leans her head back against the bed, and grabs one of the blankets. She needs something to warm her skin, which is now not only itching, but cold to the bone.

Her hair hanging limply in front of her face, and her body shaking, she wraps the blanket about her shoulders, and allows the salt of her tears to mix with that of the ocean.

Everything was going so well. She was to marry, her stables were booming with business, the guild was in good standing, her sister and her were beginning to talk again...

But not now. Now she was the homeless Charquin, who' damn near lost the life of a innocent child because she couldnt remember to deliver a message. Not to mention a murderer. She killed Nell, her one domestic who had been with her for years. Killed her in cold blood. Once Alterio found this out, he would surley disown her. Break their engagement. Who wishes to be wed to a murderess. Not to mention, her whole life upon the Isle, all she owned, and had worked so hard for was gone. In a flash. Her life,as she knew it was gone.

Nothing will ever be the same again.

Charquin Clemont

Continuing to stare out over the debris in the ocean Anastasia Clemont remains dead silent. Rooted to her spot. She pays little attention to the 'going ons' around her. Its as though they dont exist. All that is there is her and her thoughts.

"Why father"

Her amulet glowing bright as her mind takes off in conversation. "Why did fate bring us so far as to tease with the possibility of avenging what was wrongly done, only to have it disperse our grasp as quickly as blood from my foe? Tis this the curse ye spoke of so long ago. The images of death ye show thru my mind as though a play? Forgive my judgement of ye father, but be damned if ye play the same havoc with Charquin, for she nae has the ability as I do. Being the eldest does have its price."

Ana grips the rail of the ship as her eyes flicker over reminents floating in the water. Reminents of what can not be determined. For they may be pieces of structures, or that of bodies. So blown apart and melted that it is better off not recognisable.

Her eyes dart over a moment. Recognizing the man who stands at the oppisite of her. Writing.

The younger Carazzi, the son of Charquins bethrothed.

Ana watches him as he silently tends to his business. His posture that of a broken man, and his gait slower then that of his aged father.

Ana continues to watch him untill he dissapears below. Then she turns her face back out over the water. Her mind in a turmoil. Yet outwardly the same defiant Ana. There is no one left on the ships deck. At least no one that she can see.

Her eyes flicker, and her body twists in a flash into what could only be described as a tornado effect. Spinning so quickly. In that exact moment, Ana shoots up towards the sky like a spinning rocket.... the only way she knows how to deal with the turmoil of emotions. She takes to flight....a mages perogitive.

Anastasia Clemont

Elgin wipes a paw across his face, accomplishing little--both are soaked--and rumples what little hair he has from lying plastered flat. Bracing himself against the genoa boom, the soggy half-ogre peers over the rail and out to sea.

The air stinks with ash. Thick clouds of the stuff tower up into the night, obscuring stars and moonlight; the wind--an easterly-- swirls and churns, spitting dust and fumes away in every direction. Egin spits into the befouled waters.

Of the island itself there is no sign.

Flotsam crowds the sea, banging roughly against the sides of the battered Elanor: charred treetrunks, scoured joists and crossbeams of the docks, here and there a barrel. The bodies of dead fish are everywhere, blackened, boiled. And worse.

The old sailor slowly gets to his feet, shaking. In the course of a long life there have been no few suprises; but this, this apocalypse, will make such a story as even he could hardly believe. Such a thing had happened only in the legends of philosophers and poets, as unlikely an event as the sinking of his boat. In a flash of light, a burst of thunder, it was over. Now that he had his wits about him, Elgin could hardly say how he'd managed to escape it.

Elgin Brauttus

Another late night..Rosalyn snuggles close to baby Ava as she makes her way back to her room. She's left the Carazzi's for the night with Jane sleeping as soundly as possible, and all the children settled in with specific orders to Felina and Mairin to fetch her if anything were to be out of sorts. She smiles softly to herself knowing they will do just that.Rosalyn enters the room, Ava sleeping contently in her arms still. She pulls the baby away a moment and looks down at her small face, biting her lip, a smile appears on her face and she takes the baby to the bed, laying her down and then climbing in beside her. Ava twists and turns a moment realizing she is free from the safety of Ros's arms, she lets out a small cry, and then finds Ros again in the bed, and falls back into contentment, snuggling close to her. Rosalyn smiles and pulls out her journal, its been more then long enough since she's written and there are so many things she needs to say.

Dearest Journal,

I write in you now seated next to a small baby, and not just any small baby, but a baby that is my own.Ava Findley, who will in the future be Ava Silverton. Surely I did not bring her into this world, but I will make sure from now on that she stays safe and raise her as my own. Things are changing rapidly for me, I'm engaged, homeless and now a mother, things couldn't get anymore complicated I don't think. The island home that I have grown to love so much is gone now forever We, the survivors of the terrible tragedy are now sailing by boat to whatever land will take us in. The mood is somber, I'm trying to be lively, but its hard. Jane has fallen ill recently and I'm helping take care of the children as well as taking care of Ava. Mairin and Felina have been a big help, I only could hope that Ava will be as special as Mairin is when she is that age. I wish there was someway I could raise their hopes, perhaps when we hit land, or maybe they need some fresh air. Its all uncertain though, and its hard to raise the spirits of inquistive children when you have no answers for them or for yourself. Keeping busy is the only thing that gets me through the day, the nights are mostly sleepless for fear that the terrible dreams will come again, and those are something I could not handle. It will do me best just to remain as I am, I'm lucky to have Ava, she is so small and knows little of what is going on yet, but its so refreshing to see her smile and her curious eyes light up when she discovers something new.

I worry about Charquin, she has not been herself since the incident with Nell and while I'm keeping busy, I have no idea what is going on with her, I only pray the elder is taking good care of her, perhaps she should come and help with the children as well, it may do her some good, especially since she will one day be their grandmother! -She smirks at this and then continues- Embrich and I have seen little of each other lately as well, both busy with things it seems, I suppose it would be wise to take some time out for ourselves, but that would seem so selfish and a waste of good time. If we are both able to be strong for those around us, then we can both endure some time apart. Still, it would be nice to have some time alone...I won't dwell on this matter, I have things to do, bottles to make up and such, thus is the life of a new mother.

Rosalyn Lovine

:: He takes his turn with the baby now, having prepared what passed for a meal in the galley; some smoked fish and pickled vegetables, teaspooned out and rationed. He added some precious sundried seagrasses, harvested months ago and soaked in sugarwater til they hardened..those were made into little 'nests' on their plates. He felt good when the nods of thanks and kind words were offered for the touch.

So, he's trying to give Rosalyn a break, and took Ava with him into their cabin. How scandalous some might think this arrangement; he, Rosalyn and Ava in one cabin, unmarried. What most might not know is that he's fashioned a corner of the room into his own, by stringing a hammock. When he thinks Rosalyn might be getting sick of his face, he takes a turn in the hammock, sometimes putting Ava on his chest to rock her to sleep. Now, he's on the floor, sitting next to the hammock. He put Ava in blankets and smack-dab in the middle of the hammock; he's near if they hit a rough spot of water. He decides to write in his old journal. ::

If this were a pleasure cruise, this could be enjoyable..to a degree.

Rosalyn has been far more wonderful than any could expect; I believe I saw her earlier climbing the rope that tethers the small boat to this one, where her father is. I didn't hear any screams, so she didn't kill him, which is a good sign.

Or did I see that at all? The time at sea, days are running into one another, and the baby does keep us up at night. I could've fallen into a dream, or simply hallucinated.

What I do know is that my friend Alterio is far from adjusted to this situation. All aboard have been adapting, or putting up a good front..except him. He doesn't speak except in one-syllable answers, and only when pulled from him, and he hardly eats. Perhaps if I didn't have Rosalyn, I would be as bitter.

Now we've got this baby. Is this a second chance for me? A wonderful woman and a child..they are my responsibility. I fouled the first time around, back in Achethe. If the Gods have seen fit to allow me to do right by these two, I will seize this opportunity. Ava won't ever have to know she isn't ours..I have grown very attached to her, and her coloring lets her pass as Rosalyn's, if not mine.

I wish to marry Rosalyn as soon as possible. If we don't find port soon, I may ask Anthony, who's captaining the other ship, to perform something for us. At least then maybe she won't be embarrassed at our accomodations. She hasn't spoken as much, but I see her blush when I take my shoes off to get into bed..hence why I don't do it often.

I love her, but wish her to not be any more uncomfortable than need be during this trying time. I will do whatever I can to make this tolerable for her.

And if that means climbing that rope myself and feeding her father, I guess I will have to do that as well.

The baby is stirring, so I will leave this page open to dry, and perhaps go do the dishes, unless Rosalyn's beaten me to that..and perhaps go see Alterio, for any good that might do. Probably none, but things have to get better soon.

They have to.

Embrich Silverton

Returning from the monthly trek from Achethe, her battlement with the churning waves and surreal sunami that plummeted the blackened seas see's but a distant memory to the horror that strikes her one remaining eye within the dustance of blackened waters.

"By Ezeels heel, whadd de hell is dat?" She points her long crooked finger at the ships bow, seeing nothing of where Crystal Shores once was.

"By de sea fareing curse..we blundered our charts.." She runs top speed, slipping against the salted sea decks of the SS Prairie Oyster and shoulder bunts hard into her cabins door. The wood splinters as the door was already previously broken, having had maddened crew onboard with festering disease to warp the mind. She kicks aside the wooden plankings and races to her cluttered desk, ripping aside various tidal charts and maps of the charted world. Finding her specific chart, she takes a silver instrument and draws her circles and measures out the distances from achethe to CS. She taps the golden compass and growls..

"Dammit..does dis thing nay work?" She jerks her head sharply to the right as she hears the hollar of her crew from above..only 5 remain alive and intake onboard, and one of those has been strown into the slave gullies and locked there as he has been taken by the maddness that consumed Jerr Keigh a month prior.

She grabs her charts and runs back through the doorway, only to spy her crew leaning way over the ships railing and pointing fixedly to the blackened sea of devestation and destruction that wrought its sharken infested waters. Churning and charred fragments of bodies are bloated and partially eaten within the waters, littered with bobbing particles of discarded bottles, wood and various saturated papers. The place looked like a graveyard for the sea.

Azryths eye narrows as she rubs her temples with the padding of her fingers. "Wha chaos reigned terror in dese waters...for de gods have forsaken dese shores and left it to plummet de sea.." she closes her eye as she runs her nail against the black patchwork of her eyepatch and conteplates where to forego...

Captain Azryth Blyy

:: He writes in the hold of the ship, a bit of light available in the form of a candle ::

I wonder how long it's been now since the island fell to its destruction; I have not seen the Grand Minstrel on the ship, and am starting to wonder if he tried to run away as I did.

I stopped counting days at sea, and Aragon..what a delightful name..Aragon Lyrre, what a melodic moniker.. has been kind in not making me pull my weight thus far, with swabbing decks or anything that might callous my hands or expose me to the sun. He's not made overtures to me, for he's working too hard on the ship, which I find both relieving and disappointing. I grieve for the Grand Minstrel, but am young. I must go on. Perhaps Aragon will take me on as a companion..or more.

Yes, the sun is shining again, in spurts, although the black smoke that choked us can still be tasted, especially in the coughing fits we're all still having.

The stars are shining brightly tonight, again, when the wind is right and the clouds give way. Perhaps we'll near land soon. Perhaps some fresh water source where I can bathe and clear my head. Do I sound narcissistic or selfish? For all I wish is a bath and perhaps..his favor.

I guess we'll see, eventually, what will become of us all.

Loomis

The whole world seems to have disappeared like it never was. I find it hard to remember life as it was, solid ground, and open spaces, and blue sky, and fresh air, and crowds of people, and...colour. Everything here is shadow, in this cabin, flickering lamplight the only illumination. It jumps along the walls causing the shadows to continually shift, which only manages to make everything seem more surreal than it already does. I feel like I've been in here for weeks.

While I feel stronger, and I no longer dwell on every tiny turn of my belly, I am yet bed-ridden. The unborn one is recuperating well, it seems, as am I under Rosalyn's care. I can never thank her enough. But every time I try to get to my feet, I feel the unsteady sway under me, and my stomach protests, and I grow nauseous. So in bed I stay. Mairin keeps me company with the only book she allowed herself to bring now and again, and Felina makes token effort. The little ones are allowing me rest as instructed, and I believe it was mentioned that Charquin was entertaining them. Paulie stays with me, for the most part, growing fussy when he's taken out of sight.

I hate lying here like an invalid. I know it's necessary, but I feel useless at a time when liabilities only make things worse. I should be up, helping to relieve some of the strain and anguish caused by this disaster. I should be a pillar of strength, a rock for the children to lean on, a shoulder for friends and family to cry on. We need each other now, and we need all the strength and hope we can muster, and I'm afraid that them seeing me this way only makes them worry more, only reminds them of our current fragility...

*Pausing in her writing, she stares at two words in her last sentence that seem to scream at her from the page: "I'm afraid". She gnaws her lip and begins again*

It makes no sense to lie in writing to a journal that no others read. I'm frightened. I am truly and honestly terrified. I have always feared the ocean. There's no place to run, no fortified walls to hide behind. I have forever feared storms. If a storm were to sweep in now, what could we do, but capsize and all drown? I fear my own pregnancy. I watched my mother die of despair after a miscarriage. I'm so small. Rosalyn says I'm strong, but am I strong enough? I fear having no place to call home. I know I've written over and over that this family is my home, but how can we stay a family if all we can do is drift aimlessly on the sea? And how long can we do that? And what if our next home goes up in smoke as all the ones before have? I clung to Crystal Shores so hard, so hard it nearly killed me on several occasions because I couldn't bear losing another home. Maybe that's still true. Maybe once reality sets in, I won't be able to bear this. I'm frightened of not having any control, of not having a plan, a method of action geared toward a solution. I can do nothing. I couldn't save the isle, as I'd helped to do numerous times passed, and now I can't put the pieces back together for my family, especially for Alterio.

Alterio...dear Gods, most of all I am frightened of being left alone. I have not heard a word from or seen my husband's face since I've been sequestered down here. I miss him...I miss his reassuring strength and unwavering, staunch superiority. I would give anything to have him hold me, so I could hold him, and we could cry together until we've no tears left to shed, and then together we could begin to rebuild what we've lost. But I'm petrified that what I've really lost in this apocolypse is him.

Jane Maichen Carazzi

In the cabin Ros shares with Embrich, all are asleep. Little Ava nestled next to Rosalyn in the bed and Embrich keeping his distance in the hammock in the corner. The only sound heard is the creaking of the bed, as Rosalyn tosses and turns, lost in a dream...

Rosalyn stands on the deck of the ship as it sails towards land that is now visible. She shields her eyes from the sun in an attempt to better see the land they are approaching. It looks glorious after so many days on a boat, the sun is shining, the air is warm, and the ocean gently rocks the boat towards the shore. Rosalyn smiles genuinly, as the new land comes closer in to view, she can see the white sand beach, and the tropical trees along the shore. She nearly squeals in joy as she realizes this new land is not unlike thier old home, they would have a new start in someplace they could all love. As she stands there beaming, she is unaware of the sky behind her growing dark,or of the sharken that have followed them so far now and how they are creeping ever so quietly towards the ship. All she sees is the future and it looks bright. She doesn't notice the volcano in the distance yet, she doesn't see the smoke steadily rising from its peak. From down below somebody calls out to her, its Charquin, and Rosalyn begs her to come up and see the beautiful view. She obliges and the two links arms and watch as they approach the future, neither paying mind to the dangers behind or ahead.

The time has come, they have arrived and the gang plank is lowered to the ground, Rosalyn sees some of the others off safely, Jane passes her now healthy and big with child, the Carazzi children, all offering her a bright smile. Alterio Jr and Sr walking side by side sharing a smile with each other for their good fortune. Charquin and Ana follow behind them, dressed in identical dresses and braids, both very cheerful.Lastly comes her father, dressed in his best, he plants a fatherly kiss upon her cheek and makes his way to shore. The boat is now empty save Embrich, Ava and herself, and Embrich insists that she goes first, Rosalyn kisses him on the cheek and begins her walk towards the shore.

The plank seems so long, and it seems like it will be a while before she reaches her friends all safely on the beach. She looks back over her shoulder and smiles at Embrich, and the baby Ava, both of them returning the smile and adding a wave. Rosalyn continues her walk, having only now reached the halfway point and still it seems as if this will never end, up ahead she sees the faces of her friends, and smiles, this time they do not greet her with a friendly look, they cough and sputter, their faces filled with soot once again, and then she sees it. The smoke, rising for the volcano that now seems larger then life, and now lava, its comes towards the group at an alarming rate. She opens her mouth wide to scream out to them, but the sound won't come out. She turns her head to get help from Embrich, but instead of seeing her smiling baby and happy fiance, she sees a storm raging, pouring water down on them, the ship being tossed and turned in the water, they fall overboard and the sharken swarm. Rosalyn tries to run back towards them, but the plank seems to be getting longer rather then shorter. Anyway that she turns is destruction. Its cold now, snow falls and the white sand beach that lay ahead is now a blanket of lava, all standing upon it burning in its depths. The ocean behind her violently thrusts itself at the ship, and the sharken fill the water with the blood of Embrich and Ava. Only Rosalyn seems unaffected, the plank in which she stands doesn't move. She screams and screams and nothing comes out, until suddenly its all over. The storm is gone, the land in front of her is gone, and all that is left is the lost woman on the plank in the middle of the ocean, screaming.

Rosalyn Lovine

:::After being tossed about violently below the decks when the volcanoes erupted, holding onto Chris until they fell asleep, trying to cover his small body with her own to keep him safe and in one piece, she stirs to a slight lull...just a different rocking of the Darkness Heart. Standing and settling Chris into the bed, she stretches, rubbing her head. Many a thing came tumbling down with the lava from the volcanoes...books...journals...dishes. Casting a glance about the ship and all the broken debris, she sighs..::

"Well..now what? What lies in store for all of us? More importantly, what lies in store for you little man? What is going to happen now?"

:::Thoughts running through her mind..worry, anxiety. When will all of this end? How much longer will they be forced to stay on this rocking, tumbling catastrophe they call a ship? What kind of storms could they face out there? WIll they even make it until they can find a new suitable home? How long will it be before being confined like they are eats at their minds and causes them all to become uneasy, edgy, and snappy? Can they even survive the journey emotionally, mentally, or even physically?::

Lyrias Dreams

Today I started dredging up debris from the disaster. I don't know if i'll find anything but maybe, just maybe, i'll find something that will allow me to find other survivors. Now is the first time i've regreted my temper, even in the slightest. Perhaps i should not have killed the rest of the crew when i took control of the ship. The first load of debris is in the net. Time to see what i have found... Maybe something worth selling if i ever find other people.

Today I started dredging up debris from the disaster. I don't know if i'll find anything but maybe, just maybe, i'll find something that will allow me to find other survivors. Now is the first time i've regreted my temper, even in the slightest. Perhaps i should not have killed the rest of the crew when i took control of the ship. The first load of debris is in the net. Time to see what i have found... Maybe something worth selling if i ever find other people.

Jack Stoneman