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[Chink]

Head towards the light to the right.

[Avis-Mergulus]

You shake yourself off and jog toward the right. The light seems greenish now. You cannot estimate the distance to it for lack of a reference, but it seems to you that it must be a ways off the ground.
The rock face to your left turns less steep, and soon vanishes entirely. You can now see the trees, which are sparse conifers of some kind. It seems that people walk here often, judging by the state of grass beneath the trees.
You're still cold, and your clothing is still wet, but you are naturally resilient, and the jog has warmed you up a bit.
Soon the trees recede, and you find yourself treading a gravel road. You have kicked off your boots when the ship sank, so running in it barefoot is unpleasant. You are quite sure you can see dark shapes, possibly buildings, in the distance. The light seems closer now.

[Aseaheru]

Head to the buildings, following the road, but keeping off the road proper.

[Avis-Mergulus]

The ground is slippery and cold beneath your feet, covered here and there with parchy tufts of grass. You walk the roadside until you come to what you think is a village street, though you can't be sure in this dark. You run your hand against the log wall of what probably is a cabin or house of some kind, though you cannot be sure, until it meets a void edged with jagged shards of glass - a broken window.

It's still darker than up a horse's ass, and none too warm. Maybe it's a dead horse. Metaphors are like that.

[WhitiusOpus]

Frederic, nonplussed by the glass and seeking a warmer place, takes of his wet shirt, wrapping it around his left hand. He then proceeds to knock out the broken glass, and climb in through the window.

[GiglameshDespair]

Or, instead of that, try walking around the cabin and going in through the door. If it's locked or barred do the window thing.

[Sarrak]

Or, instead of that, try walking around the cabin and going in through the door. If it's locked or barred do the window thing.

+1. And try do it silently.

[Avis-Mergulus]

You pass the window and tread carefully on, hand on the wall, footsteps quiet. After a few meters, your hand meets a doorjamb, and then your head connects with something. You curse and feel around: it appears that the door is hanging on one hinge, and you just bumped into it.

You edge inside quietly. A few floorboards creak and your feet make wet little pattering noises, but that's about it. You still can't see anything, but at least you're out of the wind. The air smells of mildew and desolation: that peculiar smell abandoned buildings get when the inhabitants have left not long ago, but it is certain they won't ever return.

Spoiler: Inventory (click to show/hide)

Wet work clothing (worn)
Lighter (almost full)
Isandan passport
Isandan military registry ticket (lieutenant of reserve)

[Detoxicated]

Well warm up by doing some military warm up training. You are in the Navy afterall...

[Avis-Mergulus]

Well warm up by doing some military warm up training. You are in the Navy afterall...

Well, technically, you're not at the time. In Isanda, some professions are considered important for the military, so every able-bodied person who enrolls into a college which specializes on such a profession must complete basic military training and receive the rank of lieutenant of reserve. In wartime, all lieutenants of reserve can be activated as lieutenant-specialists.

Still, you can do an exercise routine or two. You do some squats, then some hops, then some push-ups - all in total darkness. It doesn't change the fact that your clothing is clammy, but you sure feel a surge of patriotism. You remember the sergeant who ran your class' military training - a gaunt man who considered all of you flimsy intellectuals and took great delight in running you into the ground. You flex your muscles. Who could have known it would come in handy.

Darkness levels are approaching those that may be observed in the ear of the king of Lumumba.

Spoiler: Inventory (click to show/hide)

Wet work clothing (worn)
Lighter (almost full)
Isandan passport
Isandan military registry ticket (lieutenant of reserve)

[Detoxicated]

Who is the King of lumumba. Why does he have the coolest sounding name for a country? Where are we from, what date do we write?

[escaped lurker]

Ignoring the royality of lumumba, how about we carefully tap around the house. If we get lucky there even might be a bed or clothing left~

If need be, I say we are willing to settle on the gardines for additional warmth..

[Detoxicated]

Well our character can think about these things while searching.

[Avis-Mergulus]

Joke is, the king of Lumumba is probably a black guy, so the inside of his ear is an extra dark environment. As a citizen of Isanda, you have never given Lumumba much thought. It's an Islander kingdom somewhere easterly, a protectorate of Gish or Afaria or some other Continent state. If you strain, you can probably remember what they export, but you doubt it's really important.

Isanda, your homeland, is a powerful Continent nation with an ancient history. It is a member of the Assembly of the States and a colonial empire of no small scale, second only to Irevia. The year is 3751 since the Battle of the Plain in international reckoning, or the 11th year of the reign of Legate Kristor by the Isandan calendar. You are not sure about the date, but it's mid-Autumn.

You set off feeling around the house in the dark. Miraculously, you don't even bump into anything. The house seems to consist of two rooms: a smaller one, which contains the door, and a large one after it. There is some sort of huge brick oven in the center of the large room, and two beds on different sides of it. The beds are uncovered. In the corner of the room, you find a small stack of firewood covered with sackcloth. There is also a table with a heap of musty papers on it, which go cascading down onto the floor as your hands slide over them. There is a candlestick on the table, but no candles. Strange. There is also a switch near the doorjamb, for light, you suppose, but it doesn't work.

Spoiler: Inventory (click to show/hide)

Wet work clothing (worn)
Lighter (almost full)
Isandan passport
Isandan military registry ticket (lieutenant of reserve)

[escaped lurker]

Try the lighter, get a view of these papers. If we can conclude that we are not commiting a crime against literature, science or somesuch, feed some of them into the oven, get a fire going.

Also, strain yourself, but not about Lumumba. Irevia - being a superior force - sounds of interest. Interest to whom, you ask? Don't ask. Just do.