You wake up to a face full of wet sand. You’re lying on a beach, just above the waterline. You hear waves, pierced by the occasional cries of seagulls.

You push yourself up onto your elbows and look around, trying to get your bearings. You’re ${character.name}. Last night, you were a passenger on the trading ship Andromache, bound for Uxor in the Nyssean Isles. There was a storm, and…it gets hazy after that. You remember the crash of thunder, shouting, the rolling deck of the ship. At some point, you went into the water. You must have stayed afloat, somehow, because you aren’t dead, but everything is a dark blur after that.

You try to stand, and check yourself over. Everything hurts, but nothing seems to be broken. Your clothes are ruined, and you’re covered in bruises and minor scratches, but as far as you can tell you’re not seriously injured. Your other possessions are lost to the waves, but you’re alive.

You look around for other survivors, or any sign of where you are. The beach continues to the horizon in both directions, east and west by the position of the sun, dotted with large rocks and unidentifiable debris. Then you see it, a few hundred yards down the beach: the jagged hull of the Andromache, tipped onto its side and cracked in half.

You start to make your way towards the wreck, but some instinct makes you pause before reaching it. You stay low, and take cover behind a rock. Peering from your hidden vantage point, you see