Hazardous

Jon was startled awake by the sudden and horrible sensation of falling. It seemed as if the entire world turned on its side and he hit the floor of his cabin with a thud, cursing to himself as he struggled to get his bearings straight. Things flew about all over the place as the boat lurched up and down in the water.

He braced himself as best he could against the wall of his cabin, and unsteadily left the tiny room, tumbling and tripping with every violent crash the boat made. When he reached the deck he was immediately drenched in water, though he couldn’t tell if it came from the waves crashing against the boat or from the rain that pelted down violently. Men were rushing about, trying and failing to keep control of the ship as it bounced about at the mercy of the sea that seemed to have decided that it wanted no part of them. Jon looked around for anyone, a member of the Kingsguard, the Lord Hand, but it was no use. The night sky, the water, the chaos on deck made it an impossibility. Occasionally a bolt of lightning would strike, illuminating just enough of the sea around him for Jon to notice. He blinked up, saw a wall of water approaching, and then the whole world was lost to him.

There was a vague sense of cold, a vague sense of warmth and then for the longest time just a dull ache. Eventually the rest of his senses returned as consciousness leaked back into his mind. He became aware of the course sensation of sand rubbing against him exposed flesh, felt the pressing warmth of sunlight bathing him, and the persistent ache in his muscles from numerous bruises. His eyes opened a crack for the briefest of moments before the light caused him to wince in pain. Bringing a hand up to shade himself, he opened them again and found himself laid out on a beach.

Slowly, taking care to not pressure his sluggish body too much, Jon eased himself up and cast his gaze about. Before him was the wide expanse of the sea, and when he turned around he found himself confronted with a looming wall of tropical jungle. Occasionally there was a piece of wood, a torn piece of ship hull, that washed ashore, but otherwise Jon found himself very alone. He had nothing and no one, and with a groan of discomfort, he pushed himself to a standing position. There were few choices left to him, so Jon began the slow journey along the beach, trying to figure out where he was and how he might survive.