Delana washed up on the shore near the Vipamolan coast. Her body drained of energy, and her whole body wet with patched covered with sand. She slowly turns over laying on her back. "Guhhh" She exclaimed throwing up some water as she turned over on her side. After several minutes her eyes finally opened. Her mind racing at what happened. Things seemed like a blur she decided to go through her memory.'My name is Delana Grenwood. OK, so that is in place. I was a sailor on the S.S. Windcaller and there was a storm? No there was no clouds last night, so what took over the ship.' Then a sudden realization hit her. "Captain!" She attempted to hop to her feet but her near death experience left her with little to no energy. She looked down at herself. I barely have anything on me. With a bit more awareness she sat up. I'll need some equipment or money for basic food. At that moment she noticed a gnome face down in the water about 5-10 feet out. She recognized him he was a merchant they had taken hoping to get passage to the new lands. Gathering what little energy she had she waded out to him and pulled him back on shore. Once back on shore she turned him over, it was too late he was gone. After looking him up and down she knew her survival was dependent of salvaging what he had though she didn't like the idea. The Journal, deed to the horse and cart, and pen and ink well were either too drowned to be usable or were useless to her. She took the leather boots, and cloth tunic and pants as well as the belt pouch. Looking inside the belt pouch she was astonished to find it still had 100 silver inside, how it was not washed away in the ensuing crash was lost to her. Not that she would complain. With the gnome now picked clean she dragged him further up and placed his hands across his chest. Resting him peacefully. "I don't have the energy to bury you, I'm sorry." She said aloud as if the gnome could hear her. With that she stumbled groggy and disoriented up the beach line towards the only lights she could see in the early evening dusk. 

Arannis found the scent of the sea comforting. Before all of these adventures had forced him back out of retirement, he had been working on upgrading the estate he built on that island a short distance from the city he grew up in. The gentle sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the cries of the seabirds and the picturesque appearance of the ocean stretching out beyond the eye could see. It was a lovely experience overall. The sorcerer had been walking up the beach for some time when he saw the wreck. His green eyes scanned the coastline beneath neat dark hair. His fine clothes looked thoroughly out of place in this setting, looking more accustomed to throne rooms or bureaucratic offices. Driftwood lay scattered about the sand, crates and objects washing up all over the shore. In the midst of all the wreckage lay two corpses. Arannis had come to this small coastal city in Canelux seeking artifacts that were difficult to come by in Iria. Perhaps this ship just so happened to trade in some of them. Arannis approached the wreckage and held an open hand out behind him, “Come Aran, stay close to me while we’re near this.”

A young boy who looked to be about seven years of age ran up behind Arannis and grabbed his hand. A large raven stood atop the boy’s shoulder and scanned the area with a far too intelligent gaze. Its eyes locked upon one of the corpses, and it let out a squawk. Aran quickly shouted, “Dad, look!” and pointed to one of the corpses which had begun to move. The boy was a perfect image of his father. The same hair, the same color eyes, same shape of the face. Aran would look exactly like Arannis when he grew up. Where the man had a rather stern, almost cold expression however, the boy’s was full of life and wonder. It was the type of glee only children were capable of. Perhaps Arannis himself was like that once, and when he looked down at his son’s face his gaze did soften, a smile filling his features. There was no magic across all the planes quite so powerful as that of youth. From childish innocence to youthful idealism, the energy of the young was a force all on its own.

Arannis looked at the figure his son had pointed out. It seemed one of the sailors of that wreck was not as dead as he had assumed. Arannis readied himself, on his guard, but when the figure stood he saw she appeared to be a mere halfling sailor. Arannis started to relax a bit, until he remembered the power the halfling bard he used to travel with wielded. Arannis decided it was foolish to underestimate even such a non threatening looking woman, and so approached slowly, nudging Aran behind him and casting a spell of protection upon the boy. The raven took off from Aran’s shoulders and began to circle the woman high above.

Arannis called out to her, “You appear injured. I mean no harm. I am a healer and can assist you.”

The large waves lapped at the beach side it's waves though calming were hypnotizing. Suddenly she felt her legs give way as she laid back down in the sand. Her mind raced thinking of those back in her home land. Her father, mother, and brother. Would she see them again? Would she get home? She closed her eyes, the sound of the waves washing over her brain. As she gripped her hand across the sand, she felt a sharp object, hardened like a rock. Pulling up the item she saw a sharp blue gem, obviously stowed away in the ship before the crash. 'Who had gems aboard the Windcaller?' Instead of curing any questions even more came about. She pocketed the gem into her belt pouch. She closed her eyes once more her energy leaving her. “You appear injured. I mean no harm. I am a healer and can assist you.” She heard nearby, but slowly opening her eyes all she could see was a raven circling above. "Who, who's there ?" She said aloud now convinced she was delusional and was talking to a bird. "Please, even if you are just a bird, please I'm exhausted and I need food." She said just a few more minutes later. With that her eyes closed once more. In her visions she could see her lovely Asla face, full and smiling as she had seen many times before unlike most in her village she had a deep and true connection with her betrothed. 

When the halfling looked to the raven and begged for its assistance, Arannis almost laughed. Arannis looked up at the bird and whispered a quick word in a long forgotten tongue. The creature quickly flew back downwards and landed upon his son’s shoulder.

Arannis approached the woman and looked her over. She did not seem too heavily injured, and so Arannis breathed a single word under his breath as he walked closer, “Heal.” Arcane energies flowed through the air, reaching out to the prone body of the halfling sailor. The invisible energy wrapped her body, seeking injury or malady, correcting any damage it could discover. This kind of magic always fascinated Arannis, it was why he began to dabble in it in the first place, despite it being outside his usual area of research. It’s auto-corrective capacity to rewind time and repair nearly any injury was astonishing. He had long wondered if the magics found a kind of template in an injured creature’s body to restore to, or if they simply hyper-activated a body’s natural healing capabilities. Perhaps more experimentation was necessary, it could be the subject of Arannis’ next book.

The sorcerer felt the strain on his power as he reached into his pack to retrieve a waterskin. Despite his interests in the field, healing was never his forte. Yet, interestingly enough, he found himself doing it more and more these days. He handed the water to the woman and spoke again, “My name is Arannis, this is my son Aran.”

The young boy stood sharp and offered a hand, “Hi, I’m Aran, it’s nice to meet you.” A wide grin filled his face as he stood there, looking for all the world like he was ready to meet the local duke.

Arannis smiled at his son’s antics and then spoke again, “I can teleport you to the town proper if you wish.”

In the meantime, Arannis’ eyes scanned the wreckage. He detected no traces of the types of artifacts he was looking for. A shame, but perhaps this sailor he had saved would know the local region better than he. He would simply need to find a way to phrase his request properly. But that could come later. Better now to get the starved thing some food.

It felt as if her skin was warm without being uncomfortable. It felt as if she was wrapped in a comfy blanket held by her mother long ago, that sweet and calming warm that one never wants to let go of. The words were those of a man wise like a sage. It was the comfort she missed from her voyage. Her eyes fluttered open the blurry image of the (what seemed to be at the time) human loomed over her. She felt the water enter her mouth it's refreshing energy flowing into her belly. She tried to pace herself with it but, the moment she thought it would be enough she only craved more water. After a bit she gasped for air. "I'm Delana, Delana Grenwood." She said slightly embarrassed that she had to be rescued so soon into her journey.

As the crickets chirped around her she could hear Arannis talk of teleporting and looking around. 'This man must have sun sickness and is more delusional than I was a moment ago.' She thought to herself. 'But he had water and is about the only person I know on this continent. It's best I don't play along and make his madness worse.' She continued. "Please no If you can just walk me back to town, it would be much appreciated." She said struggling to sit up. Her bones felt brittle as glass and her muscles felt like wet paper. But the few minor scratches and bruises she had seemed to feel better and the marks were hardly noticeable. "What land am I in?" She asked her rescuer as she finally was able to sit fully upright. "Did I make it to Caneluck?" She tried to pronounce the continent they were sailing for as best as she could remember it. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Delana,” Arannis said, offering the woman a hand to help her up. He knew many were suspicious of magical transportation, but his offers to cast the spells were rarely refused. He would have to make do with walking. Town was not far anyway. The night was slowly cooling to a very comfortable temperature, the gentle breeze sweeping out to sea felt pleasant against Arannis’ skin. Arannis snapped a finger and a hoverling light appeared, illuminating the path back towards the town.

“You have arrived in Canelux, yes,” Arannis explained, “We are not far from Vilpamolan.”

Arannis had questions for the sailor, but decided to wait until she was better rested. She was still clearly suffering from significant distress. Instead he looked over to his son and said, “We’re walking back to town, Aran.”

“Dad, can’t you just teleport us?” The boy asked, looking disappointed, “We’ve been walking forever.”

Arannis shook his head, “No, we’ll need to walk. You remember the way?”

Aran cheered up, “Of course!” He happily began to skip up the beach.

“Not too far,” Arannis called after him and sighed. He looked back to Delana to see how she was holding up.

Delana slowly crawled to her feet stumbling as she slowly walked. Sleep, sleep was an idea as foreign to her as the world she was currently in. The sand shuffled beneath her feet she could feel the small rocks hit her new boots, the cooling breeze meant to be refreshing bit at her and she shivered slightly. 'It's a shame that the boy was roped into his father's delusion.' Delana thought to herself. The sun slowly disappearing in the horizon it's rays shining red and orange cutting the night sky and bleeding across the world. To stave off her hunger and to learn more of her situation she decided to ask some questions as she walked."This country I'm in, could you tell me more about it? Who…" She tried to catch her breath."Who rules over it?" She finally spit out as she could see the town just a few steps away.

As they approached town, the half-dead sailor asked Arannis about the country. Arannis answered with what little trivia he knew, “I am also a traveler here, and not an expert in the country-” before Arannis could continue, his son interrupted.

“Queen Qendresa of the Adeluna Empire rules most of Canelux,” the excited young boy said with a smile, “But this town, Vilpamoran City, is independent. It’s controlled by a bunch of pirate lords. But a lot of people say they don’t get along very well.”

“Aran, it is impolite to interrupt people,” Arannis scolded his son, however he couldn’t help but smile at the precocious youth’s eagerness to share his knowledge. Arannis turned to Delana, “Please excuse my son. He reads a lot when I am on business, and loves to share trivia.”

For a moment, it looked like Aran was going to open his mouth and spout off more he knew about the place, but instead he looked away bashfully.

Arannis lead the trio into the town. Most of the buildings were of old wood, dilapidated and outdated. It was far from the finest of towns Arannis had visited, making his outfit seem even more out of place. The streets were of cobblestone, comfortable enough to walk on in most places but also showing signs of neglect. Darkness washed over the city, there were not lanterns to illuminate the way. The only source of light was the glowing orb Arannis had conjured in the forest.

He had not realized how late it was getting when he set out to the beach, and night was swiftly falling. Eventually, Arannis realized they were being followed. He placed a hand on his son’s shoulder and gave him a look. Aran nodded at his father, expression growing serious. The raven on the boy’s shoulder let out an ominous caw. Arannis channeled more magic into the protective spells he cast on his son. By the time he was done funneling power, his son’s skin had the faintest of glows to it, near impossible to see in the twilight. Arannis turned on his heel to face the people following them and said, with a stern expression and an intimidating tone, “Halt.”