This is the journal I mentioned in this story.
~ Property of ᏕᏗᎷᏗᏁᏖᏂᏗ ᏗᏝᏝᎥᏕᎧᏁ ~
If found, please return to the Grand Navy at Silverhold. I’ll probably be dead anyways if you found this without me.
Day 0:
I didn’t realize what was happening until I heard the telltale sound of sails being unraveled. I turned immediately, the dark sealed chest I was holding onto dropping to the floor with a crash. I practically threw it aside, running towards the brig, but it had already begun to move. Not a single crew member seemed bothered that I wasn’t onboard.
“WAIT!” I cried, as loud as I could. But nobody turned around. They couldn’t hear me over the rain. I stopped short at the edge of a cliff, this mountain being particularly rocky, though not quite mountainous. If I jumped, I’d surely break my legs. I continued to scream, crying for them to stop sailing. I prayed someone would turn around and spot me on the cliff, but nobody did. The brig just continued to disappear further into the purple fog, until eventually it had faded from view.
I fell to my knees. There was really no getting them back unless they turned around. But even then, there was no way they could find me. In the Dark Sea, if you left an island, you were pretty much never going back, no matter how you tried. Why had they left me? I was hired to the crew as a guard and assistant chef, but was I really that unimportant to them? had they not bothered doing a headcount or checked the island before they left? I wasn’t in a particularly hidden spot. A knife of betrayal pierced my heart, almost like it was trying to gouge it out.
When the initial grief and despair passed, I took inventory of my supplies: healing potions from the crew’s alchemist, a small pouch of galleons containing about a hundred or two, a couple of thornflowers and black shards I had picked up from the island, a sword I used only as emergency backup, a golden shovel, a week’s worth of fruits and bread I had cooked beforehand, a bottle of drinkable water, and this crumpled, old journal. I figured I’d begin writing in it to keep track of my experiences here. Even if I didn’t get out alive… Maybe someone would find this.
My first order of business was necessities. I found a patch of soil (thank god this was a grassy island) and, using the sword and shovel, tilled it somewhat so that I could split open some of the fruits and plant something here. Hopefully it would grow despite the strange rain and lack of sunlight. Next up was creating a shelter. Using my wood magic, an old ruin I found, and the nearby trees, I created a rough skeleton of a house by using a large wood slab I formed as the roof and doors, and using more carefully cut pieces of lumber to make a bed and table and patch up some holes. Finally, I uprooted the one cooking pot I had located on this island, and planted it square in the center of my house. This would be the one spot I could purify the seawater or rainwater to make it drinkable, considering the only other source was a medium-sized lake in the island’s center, as well as where I could cook. With that, I leaned back on my wooden slab of a bed, and collapsed of exhaustion.
Day 1:
I don’t know how long I slept, considering the lack of a sun or moon in the sky, and I decided to make a little drawer using wood magic so I could contain this journal and my writing utensils inside. I could at least keep them safe that way. I also constructed a shelf for my other supplies, and reinforced the roof on this house. I knew I’d need to make sure not to exhaust myself already by using so much magic energy, but all of this was necessary. I also recalled that Dark Sea seawater was toxic, so I suppose I had to rely on the lake, even though it probably wasn’t much healthier than the ocean. My plants hadn’t made any progress, which was expected. Maybe I could create a crude fishing rod with wood magic and go fishing.
I decided to do some exploring first, not that there was much. I managed to retrieve a couple of wooden chests that weren’t too badly damaged, as well as that dark sealed chest I had been bringing with me to the ship yesterday. I stashed them all in my makeshift house, on both the first and second floors of the ruin. If only I had glass magic, I could patch up the holes that were once windows. Instead, I just covered them with more wooden slabs.
There wasn’t much else of note on the island. None of those Atlanteans, thank god. We had encountered one the island before, and that thing was terrifying. It was unusually strong, and we had to be careful not to get too injured from it. It ran at horrific speeds, slashing at us repeatedly with its sword… I heard they were once humans. I hope that I’d be saved before something like that happens to me.
I hauled in some more lumber, as well as some stones. After all, I couldn’t just rely on only my magic. I’d need some more tools for things, after all. I collected a bottle or two of the lake water, which I set on the shelf. I’d have the purify that tomorrow. With that, I decided to head to sleep. These would be a stressful few days.
. Poor npc