The Unknown: A Game of Fear, Ignorance, and Adventure

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Kaboose the Moose

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"You assume correct. And I heard you were doing the same. Though I'm curious how a wizard would help with something as mundane as carrying a mast."

Raven laughed aloud at the comment. "Well apart from adding another pair of hands to the workforce I thought I might for once actually stretch my legs". He paused to take in a deep breath of salty sea air. "Besides, I don't want to make the same mistakes like the last time we discovered an island. I propose that someone should chart the island for potential resources like food and water as well as potential threats before blindly trampling through the local flora and fauna. Forewarned is forearmed as they say and I don't want another demonic avian incident like the last time"

In the distance he could hear the voices of the expedition and specks of colour moving about that resembled human forms. One of the forms had to be Deslock. "Reunited with the expedition at last!" Raven said aloud with enthusiasm that could almost be mistaken for sarcasm "Time to get our hands dirty"
 

Zemalac

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Deslock was, as per usual, in a foul mood. He longed for his pipe and a quiet, out of the way place to smoke it in, but what he got instead was a mess of grubby sailors hanging onto his every word and demanding every second of his time. And what was worst was that he'd put himself into this position. He was the head of the Expedition: as such, he was supposed to know what needed to be done at all times. Of course, he didn't know how to handle many things, which only made him angrier.

As such, when he saw more Expedition members headed his way, he breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief and charged determinedly in their direction, intent on delegating as much of this mess as possible.

"Mr. Thrace! Mr. del Cid! Welcome to another damned island!"

______________________​

"Excuse me, I don't suppose you have any fresh water stored on the ship?"

"What?" Grummond started. He hadn't seen the woman come up behind him, and was mildly annoyed that he hadn't noticed her. Nevertheless, he turned with a polite smile (lips closed over the tusks, he'd learned the hard way long ago how humans reacted to that) and responded. "Of course we've got fresh water. There's an open barrel in the mess hall, with a ladle hung on the side." He paused, looking Larissa up and down. "I don't think I've seen you before, madam," he said slowly. "Who are you?"
 

Kaboose the Moose

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"Mr. Thrace! Mr. del Cid! Welcome to another damned island!"

Raven nodded as he surveyed the land where he stood "Glad to be of service again...though we wizards are not really the muscles type. In fact I come more as advice than hard labour" he paused to dodge some of the flailing crew as they passed by

"Since we have been having a spot of bad luck as of late concerning islands, I though I could volunteer my services for some reconnaissance. The last thing we want is to stumble onto something unpleasant without being prepared for it..like those birds from the last island" he paused again to work off the nightmare of the feathered fiends

"This time I could scout around a bit, find if there is something magical haunting anything or perhaps spot a smuggler's ship before it attacks us or something...you know, forewarned is forearmed kind of thing. What do you say. It's just a bit of investigating"
 

Saskwach

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"I too am afraid there is little I can do to help with the mast. After all, there's only so much a one-armed man can heave. Especially when one arm is simply too little. I have other skills I can offer though. I can survey the ground and make a tactical assessment.
"Good luck, Mr Deslock. I'm sorry I cannot offer any more assistance on this task. I wouldn't have come and so unjustly lowered your spirits if Captain Grummond hadn't been quite keen on throwing the Expedition members off the ship for a time."

And with that, Jonas left.
 

Zemalac

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Apr 22, 2008
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Deslock's face fell. "Well," he said after an awkward moment, "if you think so...we could use any help we could get, to be frank. Even a one-armed man...Jonas? Where'd he go?" Deslock wasted a moment in futile search for the one-armed swordsman. "Dammit, everyone's vanishing on me. Half the damn Expedition has already run off into the jungle to go exploring, Raven. Bumbling around like gods-touched fools. I expect most of them won't return alive."

He paused for a moment, glaring off down the beach, as if daring the island to spit forth violence to consume his crew. "You're probably better suited to the task then any of them," he said. "Get a magical view of the situation. See it from a bird's eye or something, I don't know. And if you--"

This time there was no small quiver. This time the ground heaved, throwing the Explorer from his feet. Sailors screamed as the Osprey shifted, then settled more securely into her perch. Men fell, prayed, and spoke in tongues, each one of them assuming the end of the world was nigh.

"Fuck," said Deslock, clambering back to his feet. "Shit. Shitfuck. Another earthquake. What is with this island?" He gave no time for any response to the admittedly rhetorical question. The explorer snarled, "Find out. Tell me what's going on here. Is is just an earthquake? Is some island god mad at us? Is it a demon chained beneath the ground? Because you know that's what the sailors will be saying, the damn superstitious fools. Find out, Master Wizard, if we're all about to be blown sky high."
 

Sporky111

Digital Wizard
Dec 17, 2008
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Kadeam was slowly navigating his way down the mountain when the quake started. His makeshift crutch kicked out from under him as the ground bucked, and he fell to the ground and rolled down several times before coming to a stop against a thick tree trunk. He curled his legs up to his chest and covered his head as bits of wood and leaves rained around him.

After a short while the quaking stopped. The ice elf grunted as he started to pick himself back up, pain still lancing up his leg. What is going on here? he thought as he looked around for another crutch. Am I so plagued by bad luck?

It was only a short while later that he found himself back on the beach. He could see other people nearby, but he simply sat down in a bit of shade and started to pull off his boot in hopes of finding a simple problem with his foot, rather than a crippling one.
 

Zombie_Fish

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Mar 20, 2009
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Mareck's trip down the mountain started off as a slow and careful descent before developing into a run and ending up as a tumble down the mountain side, the sounds of a dwarf swearing aggressively completing the picture perfectly. This was how his travel remained until he reached the jungle and managed to steady himself enough on a tree to get himself back up.

He looked down at his arms and legs, thankful to see nothing but a few minor cuts and grazes from his slip down the mountain. It was then that he felt the earthquake. The ground shook again, this time much more aggressively than before, to the point where it pushed him straight onto the ground again. The earthquake stopped after a bit, at which point he looked up to see if he could still see the mountain.

Unfortunately, due to his size, the tall trees blocked his view of the mountain. What they didn't block, however, was the smoke; a tall, billowing pillar of dark grey gas spouting from what he could only assume to be the Northern Mountain. Something tells me I don't want to go up there yet. If I ever do go up there.

Assuming that the smoke was coming from the Northern Mountain, Mareck decided to turn in the opposite direction and travel what he supposed would be South, into the jungle via the nearest path he could find. He also kept an eye on the trees and bushes, in order to see if there was anything he could claim to be food, regardless of whether or not it was actually edible. As is one of the problems with not travelling; you don't learn what you should or shouldn't eat.
 

Zemalac

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Despite everything aligning against them--from earthquakes to stubbed toes to flaring tempers--the sailors had managed to get the mast from the Osprey most of the way down to the beach. They were so close, in fact, that much discussion was being given to how they were going to get the thing from the island to the ship, a transaction that they had not fully considered until now. Looking across the blue tropical water at the Cepolada, the ship seemed very far away indeed.

However they managed it, it was most likely that the operation would be a multi-day effort, a prospect which didn't really please anyone. Deslock was itching to continue the voyage, the sailors were leery of days of hard labor, and Grummond (when he heard of it) didn't like having to be constantly wary to keep his ship off the reef. None of them wanted to stay on this island for one instant longer than necessary, and none of them had much choice in the matter.

So they worked, casting worried glances at the mountain to the north and its gently rising cloud of dingy steam. The earth shook occasionally, doing no more than tripping people up, but that was certainly enough to make everyone nervous.

"Explorer Deslock? Where's the longboat?"

"Just returning from the ship," Deslock said absently. "Should be back in a few minutes."

"Ah, yes," said Doctor Nexaddo, "I see it now. Wonderful!"

"Yes, quite," Deslock agreed, then blinked and turned to the Doctor. "You're back from your little foray into the jungle, I see."

"Yes, quite," said Nexaddo, mimicking the explorer's tone. He held up a small plant covered in tiny red flowers, which had been carefully dug up roots and all and put into a leather sack. "I've found a new specimen. Delightful, isn't it?"

"I'm sure it is," said Deslock. "Ah, Doctor, you wouldn't have happened to have been up by the northern mountain during your jaunt, by any chance? I'm beginning to be--holy shit." The earthquake almost threw the explorer from his feet. Doctor Nexaddo, having a lower center of gravity, fared markedly better.

"No, I didn't get a chance to explore in that direction," said the Doctor, as though nothing had just happened. "I saw the smoke and decided that I had better things to do than poke around volcanoes, yes?"

"So you do think it's a volcano, then?" asked Deslock, staring up at the peak.

"Most assuredly," said Nexaddo. "I had a colleague back at the University who studied them. Such fun at parties, always telling us how wood would burst into flame if you so much as brought it near the molten rock." He paused for a moment. "The man had no eyebrows, as I recall...I've always wondered how that happened. But the longboat is here, and so I bid thee good day, Explorer Deslock."

"Yes yes, good day, Doctor," said Deslock, still staring at the mountain.
 

Bluedemon322

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John stumbled into the clearing where the Expedition had met with the survivors of the Osprey for the first time, assuming it was still being used as a Landing Zone. Hanging over his shoulder was a makeshift sack, comprised of several shirts expertly tied together.

As he looked around, he noticed that a large group of sailors sitting near what looked like a ships mast were debating on how to get the mast onto the Cepolada

"Why don't we just put it in the longboat and raise it up with a pulley?"

"No dumbass, the longboat cant hold all that extra weight, especially with enough people needed to row the extra weight!"

" Well lets see you think of a better idea, asshole!"

At this point John intervened, suggesting that they cut the mast into several pieces, take them across separately, then reassemble the pieces on the other side.

Pulling a green fruit out of his bag,he bit into it as he walked up to Deslock, who had just finished talking with the Doctor and said, "So you said you knew my father. How?
 

Zemalac

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The ground had stilled. No shaking, no rumbling, not even a vibration. Sailors looked at the mountain to the north with its crown of smoke and made signs against evil before returning to their work. They should have been relaxing now that the earthquakes had stopped, but the feeling in the air was not that of a reprieve; rather, it felt like the calm before a violent storm. Without a word exchanged the sailors began throwing ropes over the mast they had spent so much effort to move, securing it to the sand. They tied down the tents, banked the fire, and covered the powder barrels with wet hides.

Deslock watched it all with a grim expression on his face. Sailors, he thought, were much like certain animals. They could sense when something bad was coming down the line, and by watching your behavior you could receive warning yourself. It was like watching a murder of crows before a storm, in a way. The sailors knew that something was about to happen, something big, and they were doing the only thing they knew how to do in response to such a thing: battening down the hatches and tying themselves to the mast. So to speak.

"So you said you knew my father. How?"

"Eh?" Deslock refocused his attention. "Ah. Hello, Mister Piercefield. Abrupt way to start a conversation, but we were interrupted when we last spoke so I'll let it slide."

He automatically took a moment to search his pockets for his pipe. He packed in tobacco as he spoke.

"I met your father some years ago," he said, "when I was attempting to map the Shattered Lands. You know them? The place north of the Empire, where every damn ganglord claims to be the rightful king? Anyway. Was mapping them. Didn't go well. Your father was, I believe, trying to close some sort of deal with some local warlord--people are always trying to get stuff out of the Shattered Lands, you know how it is, everyone thinks the damn old kingdom they talk about was such hot stuff--but anyway, he was trying to make some kind of a deal on behalf of someone else, and the whole thing went sour. He was running from the warlord's men, met up with me, we sort of got caught up in a local war, and to make a long story short we made it to the Illarym border two months later, half-starved and infected with some kind of weaponized plague, with a donkey that was healthier than both of us." He paused to reflect for a moment. "Godsdamn, we hated that animal. We could barely walk, and meanwhile it was dancing along the road, glaring at us, trying to escape from its lead. If we hadn't needed it to carry our equipment we would have killed it a dozen times over. Once we got back to the Empire we sold it to a glue factory, I think. There's a couple weeks in there that are a bit hazy."

________________________​

On the water Doctor Nexaddo sat in the longboat, surrounded by men rowing with all their might. He looked back at the island, noted the dark smoke seeping from the top of the mountain, and congratulated himself on getting off while he still could. He spared a thought for Deslock and the Cepolada's sailors, and the survivors of the poor Osprey--they were not as fortunate as he. They would survive, he was sure--they had the skill and the luck. Nonetheless, he sent up a little prayer for those still on the island.

________________________​

On the edge of the jungle, a minor argument was coming to a conclusion.

"You see, madam?" said the thin man in gray, not even a smudge of irritation touching his tone, "I do indeed know which direction the beach is in."

The red-skinned elf he was with replied in a low voice and laughed. The man in gray was unperturbed.

"As you say, madam," he agreed, and gave her a short bow. "And now, if you will excuse me..." He left her there, at the jungle's edge, and began making his way towards the hulk of the Osprey.

"Good day, Mister Pews," said Riley Lynch as the man in gray came up beside him.

"Good day, Mister Lynch," Pews replied. He studied the beached ship for a moment. "She looks quite different without her mast, doesn't she?"

The mate sighed. "That she does," he said. "That she--"

Then came the roar, a sound that seemed to go on forever. The ground lurched beneath them, throwing both men from their feet, throwing the whole camp into disarray. The sailors fared better than everyone else, having just tied down everything that could have a rope attached to it, but there was only a bare few who kept to their feet.

It felt like it lasted forever. An objective eye, of which there were none, might have determined that it lasted a good half a minute. And when it ended, when the ground stopped shaking and the roar faded, men rose to their feet only to fall to their knees again when they saw the northern mountain, crowned with fire and smoke, billowing into the sky like a solid pillar cut out of Hell. The crater was rimmed with molten rock, flowing through cracks and channels, glowing redly in the sun.

The sailors prayed to gods of sea and stone. The Explorer, however, merely took stock. Deslock licked a finger and held it up to the wind.

He frowned. "Wind's blowing away from us," he said. "We should be safe from the ash. And from the look of things, the lava won't reach us either, and I think the earthquakes have calmed down. All things considered, we're fairly safe right where we are." He frowned again as a flake of ash drifted down in front of his face. "Reasonably safe," he concluded. He spent a moment staring at the mountain of fire.

"With any luck," he said, "none of our people are over there right now."
 

Zemalac

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Apr 22, 2008
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This is really, really bad hotel internet I'm on right now. Sorry about the double post.

Anyway. This marks the beginning of the action returning to the thread, coming back from behind the scenes bleeding and bandaged. Have fun guessing what's gone on, and what's still going on.
 

Nukey

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Cecia stood still with arms loosely dangling at her sides, a single eye focused upwards at the glowing crater. She, unlike the sailors, didn't seem too alarmed, in fact, she didn't even seem alert, practically mesmerized by the whole show the mountain put on. Her facial expression, a wide smile that danced across her face from one end to another, seemed to confirm this. It took a few seconds for her to say anything after the whole ordeal ended, but after she finally snapped out of the trance, she shouted, as loudly as she could, the first words to come to mind.

"Holy shit! That was fuckin' cool!" The elf exclaimed, her accent having lessened to a certain extent, likely intentional, judging by the slow pace that she spoke with. "Are thar anymore o' them, err, things around here? I wanna see another one! Crap, I'd hate t' be one o' th' horkers near that thing! Wow, I mean, they'd be fried t' a fuckin' crisp! Sucks fer them, right? Hey, can I have thar stuff if they don't make it back?"
 

MasterSqueak

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May 10, 2009
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Marneus stood by a group of arguing sailors, staring silently up at the volcano. He stood still as a statue, only revealing himself as alive by the slight shifting of his armor. The knight blinked, before turning and heading off to check on the repairs.

He stopped a sailor, asking where Deslock was. After a confusing string of directions, some mild cursing, and a threat or two, he managed to find his objective.

"Greetings. How are the repairs proceeding?"
 

ThePuzzldPirate

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Oct 4, 2009
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Dirty wasn't a word to describe Rhee as she trudged through the jungle with mud caked on her boots. Her entire being had something covered on her, whether it was sweat, dust, ash, or the giant patch of blood that covered her entire lower back and side. Strangely though, she looked in good shape compared to Rokya who's pale face bobbed quite calmly, if only because he was too far gone to feel pain.

"Help...he fat..." She struggled a bit more before collapsing just as some nameless sailors reached them, Rhee believed she heard them say something but she was too tired to make out the words.

"Nex, Necado," she mumbled and was met only with confused stares. "" By this point, she only now realized how filthy she was. Rhee aggressively attacked the dirt in attempt to clean herself but it only fouled her mood even more. What was worse, she decided to pick this to be stubborn about.
 

Zemalac

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Apr 22, 2008
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"Greetings. How are the repairs proceeding?"

"How the fuck should I know?" asked Deslock absently, without rancor. "I mean, the ship's still afloat, so I suppose they can't be going too badly, right?" His mind refocused with almost visible effort. "And we got the mast down and intact. Thanks for overseeing that, by the way. It's been suggested that we ship it out to the ship--hah, ship to the ship--in pieces, but I'm thinking that would weaken it too much--don't want another mast breaking on us--so if we could just--"

The Explorer was suddenly staring past Marneus with an unsettlingly intent look on his face. "Hang on for a moment, will you?" he said. "I think there's something I need to check out."

He moved briskly, breaking into a jog when he drew close enough to see the blood. He slowed again when he reached the group of sailors surrounding Rhee and her burden.

"Orsag's Bloody Eye," he swore when he saw Royka Nasheel. "How the hell did this happen?"

"Dunno, boss," said a sailor, who suddenly found himself elected spokesman by virtue of being the only one to speak up, "she's been talking Illarym, mostly. Asked for Nexaddo first thing."

"Yeah," said Deslock, staring, "I can see why." Someone had bandaged the wound in Royka's chest (and done a fine job of it, too, using the man's own shirt as material) but blood was seeping out from around the edges and, on the whole, it had the appearance of something extremely unpleasant.

"Okay," said Deslock. "This guy needs a healer. And I'm thinking she needs a drink. The Doctor just took the longboat back to the ship, worse luck, so we'll have to make do..." He turned back to the camp on the beach and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Attention, sirs and madams!" he shouted. "Anyone who knows anything about healing, get your ass over here now! There's a wounded man who needs your attention!"
 

Lost In The Void

When in doubt, curl up and cry
Aug 27, 2008
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The Osprey had not been kind to Cid. First the incident that placed the ship where it now stood, being stripped for resources, had knocked him across the room he was staying in and knocked him out. When he had come to the door had been blocked and he had spent the remainder of his time trying to move enough of the rubble to open the close-to-destroyed door that barred him from the rest of the world. A normal job perhaps for most, but he was an Ice Elf and as such, the heat taxed his strength more than a normal being would have. As a result he was only just about to clear the final remains of the wood and rubble that stood in front of him. He was moving lazily, almost lethargically as the humidity from his sweat in the enclosed area was not helping his internal temperature.

It was the shaking of the earth that had convinced him to keep trying, skipping any respite. He didn't know what foul and dangerous things could cause such a tremor and as such, it was time for him to get out of there and find refuge. With a final push and grunt, he pushed the heavy dresser out of the way and breathed a small sigh of relief as his path was now cleared for him. He pushed open, or rather, pushed apart the ruined door and was immediately blinded by the sun.

Grumbling as his sight returned to him, he immediately froze when he saw the people around him, pulling the ship, his investment apart. He looked at it in utmost horror, "No, no, no!" he cried looking at the destruction, the carnage that was now the Osprey.

The other people immediately looked at him and he struggled to find his tongue again so that he could respond, the shock of the last few events had shaken him up. He finally found his words and repeated what he thought in his head, "Who the fuck are all you people?"

He waited for an answer, suddenly very self conscious of his fancy clothes and obvious wealth, if they were pirates or smugglers he would be killed immediately. He really regretted versing his first words to the group in such a manner. He put one hand on his rapier, preparing to defend himself if the situation required it.
 

Bluedemon322

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Oct 17, 2008
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"Attention, sirs and madams! Anyone who knows anything about healing, get your ass over here now! There's a wounded man who needs your attention!"

John made his way through the crowd of sailors, pushing and shoving his way to the front. He said, as he looked at Royka, "I'm no doctor but I do know how to keep him alive until someone gets the doctor. Also, it would be helpful if someone retrieved some bandages, a few buckets of seawater, a pair of tweezers, and some alcohol." As sailors rushed off to retrieve what they could, He kneeled down to check Royka's pulse, and stripped off the bandage. What he saw confused him, so much he said,

"Never mind. Somebody has already cleaned and stitched his wound, probably Rhee. Theres nothing we can do any better then whats been done already other then drug him and let him sleep for a few days. Time will heal him well enough. Of course, that is just my opinion. You should probably let the doc see him to confirm it, though. "


EDIT: This post has been changed from its original state by the Ministry of Truth[sup]TM[/sup]
 

ThePuzzldPirate

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Oct 4, 2009
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It was hard time convincing the sailors that the blood stains on her jacket wasn't hers but Rhee didn't mind as it only took a few stressing moments before a bottle of ale landed in her lap. Her dry throat thanked her as she emptied half of it in one sitting, she tried to admire the taste but in truth, she was looking for the buzz that would soon come after.

"Boss, time we go? need bath," with her tongue being tied with just this sentence, she hoped she could get away and explain things later. Even if she didn't find somewhere to get clean.
 

Zemalac

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Apr 22, 2008
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"Good," Deslock said in reply to John's assesment, "That's good. Well done with the first-aid, Rhee. I think there's a stream over in...uh...that direction, where the sailors have been getting water. If you want to get cleaned up, all I ask is that you do it downstream from where we're drawing our drinking water." He pointed in the general direction of where he'd been seeing sailors emerging from the underbrush with heavy buckets. There was some source of fresh water over there, at least.

He took a moment to examine Royka a little closer. "That's not looking too good," he muttered to John. "Better than it looked at first, but still..." He stood suddenly. "We've got signaling flags? Someone find the signaling flags. Get a message out to the Cepolada, tell 'em we need the Doctor, stat." He paced back and forth, peering into the jungle. "And we might want to think about organizing search parties for when the volcano dies down--doesn't look like this little eruption will last much longer. We're still missing some people. Need to find 'em." He nodded to himself, satisfied with his plans. "If those two were this hurt just trying to get back here...well, we need to find the rest of them, is all."