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[Harry Baldman]

((so are we like working together? or can we just walk apart?))

Up to you. Catching up with Salty Pete is something you can easily do right now, though.

[Varee]

Clones take a final glance around then walk south

[Playergamer]

Thomas looks around, and decides to head north.

[NAV]

"Ahoy!"
Greet the sailors. Examine the boat. what type is it? A schooner, galleon, sloop, luxury yacht, oil tanker? Does the boat have a name?

[Tomcost]

((Ahh, the "Everybody just storms off on their own as soon as they can" rule never fails))

[blazing glory]

Go to the east.

[Varee]

((Harry how does one hear a book or a candle?))

[blazing glory]

((Harry how does one hear a book or a candle?))

((Hearing turning pages or a soft flame?))

[Nunzillor]

Squirrel Grills watches with dismay as the other corpses begin to shamble off.  He shouts in a strange, gravelly voice, "Wait!  I need an audience!  Plus, it is clear from the nearby color of the sand that a Mongolian death worm lies in that direction, waiting to consume travelers whole!"

If none of them stop, Squirrel sighs as best as he is able, and turns to follow one at random.

[Varee]

CLONE turn back and listen to what the shouting body got to say

[Harry Baldman]

As the others begin to leave, Squirrel Grills is dismayed, for he knows not for sure that other people still exist in this terrible world. And so he shouts, forcing his incredibly dry and unused throat to almost crack with the noise, his hollow voice ringing out across the surrounding desert.

"Wait! I need an audience! Plus, it is clear from the nearby color of the sand that a Mongolian death worm lies in that direction, waiting to consume travelers whole!" he screams, and all but the already-gone Salty Pete hear him - each of the three stops, and looks back, wondering if they should not go back at the wise man's behest, for indeed they feel the rustling of the death worm not too far beneath their feet already.

* * * * *

Intrigued by the sight before him, Salty Pete draws closer, knowing the boat to be a Bermuda-rigged sloop, not large by any means, suitable for no more than ten crew at most. "D.S. Screaming Freedom" seems to be her name, a name arrived at through three iterations, the previous two of which appear to have been rubbed off indelicately.

"Ahoy!" he crackles out at the three sailors, who all perk up, hollow eyes resting on his figure.

"Have you a bottle?" one of the sailors immediately hisses, though more because this seems to be his default mode of speech than because he's being unfriendly. "A bottle of spirits?"

"We need a bottle!" half-whines, half-whistles another.

"Otherwise we'll surely die," grimly drones a third. "The sea hates the foolhardy 'venturer."

[Playergamer]

Thomas shuffles over towards Squirrel.

[Nunzillor]

"Now, judging by the location of the sun, the worm is currently lying in wait to the west, east, and north.  If we head south, we just might be able to avoid it." 

Plus, the guy playing the flute was headed south, which was a happy coincidence.  If Squirrel was going to explain to his viewers how to cheat death, he would need to get to the bottom of the whole situation.  Pursue the flute player south, being careful to stand still if any wormlike shapes move under the sand.

[Varee]

clone shrug and keep going south.

[blazing glory]

Keep shuffling towards the east.