The pangs of consciousness slowly pry your eyelids open as you remember where you are. You start feel very thirsty, and that feel is soon accompanied by a dull, but pulsating headache; the dull turning ever-so sharper with sudden movements. Your muscles feel rigid and stiff, and a foreign, eerie feeling that was almost overwhelming slowly creeps to the back of your head. Slowly, you pull your face up from the sand, and manage to sit up.
The morning came too soon, but also not fast enough. The light isn't helping your headache, either, and you have a feeling this will be another hot day. The only saving grace, you feel, will be the breeze coming off of the ocean. The sea. Ah, 'the irony,' you start to think as you begin to hurl. After some time, you regain your composure once more and stand up.
Your camp fire from last night has long gone out, and the empty bottles of rum are starting to attract flies. They catch your eye; their iridescent bodies are particularly interesting to look at against the glass. Glancing over to your right, you see the Captain passed out in the sand.
The Captain sleeps here, looking bedraggled.
You begin to feel hungry
You are thirsty
Exits: East, West, North, South