#((I'm not confident in my knowledge of canon D&D locations and historical events anyway pffff))

[otulnlwnafh]

@intothewildsea liked for a thing

He was definitely having a fucking day. First they were in a storm that had whipped up out of nowhere, then shortly after they found a dock until it passed this fucking annoyance of a cult had made themselves known. Some sort of large scale ritual, again. He couldn't even confidently say that at least this time demon babies weren't spawning out of people, considering the fact that he suddenly found himself- well. He wasn't entirely sure, initially.

It became apparent after a while, and he did not appreciate it any more than the situation that he had originally been in. This was a worse situation, in all honesty. Especially when the smell of smoke became apparent, a jerking throughout the ship- the telltale signs of a failing ship. And he was stuck in place. This was a god. Damn. Day.

Erskine wasn't entirely sure how he ended up on the ground again. Intact, thankfully. Mostly, at least. He could fix the prosthetic very easily. It would look concerning to anyone who didn't know the arm was fake, considering the angle it was currently bent at. Luckily, there didn't seem to be anyone immediately in the vicinity. He had time to fix it. He was more concerned with figuring out where in the world he was. (He could deal with the panic later. When he was safer.) He had his weapons, at least. That was something. He still had a- ow. Fuck. A flash of pain shot through his head when he tried to gauge whether or not he still had a connection to his god. That probably wasn't good. It didn't fully subside, either.

Nor was the sound of another person approaching, just barely noticed. It was more the flicker of movement at the edge of his peripheral that alerted him to the presence. Well. This day just kept getting better. "You okay?" As if he wasn't standing in the middle of a clearing, bloodied and dirty.