Tawmis heaved a deep breath and took in grains of sand, deep into his lungs. He began coughing and sputtering, breathing in the fresh air. Groggily he looked around to see where he was, and was pleasantly surprised to see that he was still alive. He coughed and choked, his head a hazy mess. He tried to push himself upright but felt his arms quiver under his weight. "I'll just lay here for a minute," he finally said and collapsed again into the sand.
He heard a loud, gruff cough not too far from him and knew that Taren was alive. "You alive over there?" Tawmis called out.
"Indeed," Taren's deep voice replied. "Though," he added after a moment, "with as much pain as I am in, I think I'd much prefer to be among the dead."
"You see Blaz or that Rat?" Tawmis called out.
"My name is Coy," the Ratling replied. "It's not like you don't know that!"
"Oh good," Tawmis muttered, "you survived too."
"As did -tic!- I," Blaz'tik managed to call out.
As the sun began to set on the horizon, Tawmis and the others gathered and used the dry wood from the shattered ship to make a campfire. The night grew cold, the breeze biting into their skin through their soaked clothing. Tawmis turned to Coy, "So, you're from here. What can you tell us about this place?"
"I can tell you that it's a death trap," Coy said. "I didn't get exiled. I left here to survive. And now I am back on this cursed island."
"What happened to the -tic!- rest of the crew?" Blaz'tik wondered.
"If the Master of Nex had his way, they're shark food," Coy replied.
"The Master," Tawmis repeated. "I heard you say something about that just before the ship slammed into the coral reef," Tawmis said, as he tore off a piece of his clothing and wrapped his arm, that had a deep cut from the very coral reef he was speaking of. "What's the deal with that?"
"The Master," Coy replied, "is a mysterious figure who has made this island the death trap that it is."
"What can you tell us about him?" Taren asked.
"Nothing," Coy shrugged. "I literally know nothing about him. Only that he is a powerful mage of some kind. And his hobby is experimenting and creating death traps. He believes that only the strong will survive. In his mind, he thinks this benefits those who shipwreck on this island. He thinks he's making the world a better place by removing the weak."
"So," Tawmis sighed and laid back on the sand, "we escape from Grimrock to land here, on this pleasant island of death?"
"We escaped Grimrock," Taren growled, "we can get through this."
"You don't know this island," Coy said, "our luck is going to run out."
"No prisoner ever escaped Grimrock, but we did," Taren replied.
"I suspect that's exactly why the Master shipwrecked us here, and ensured our survival, and only ours," Coy said. "Because we did escape Grimrock - in the Master's eyes, we are strong. But are we strong enough to survive the island?"
"This Master sounds like a pleasant fellow," Tawmis sighed. "Can't wait to meet him face to face." He paused, and finally added, "So I can run my sword through him."
