There is a roar as your ears fill with sound, your vision fades away and you loose sense of where you are! Time passes indefinitely.
It takes a moment to figure the information coming from your senses! A mouth full of salty water and grit, cold wetness spreading beneath your clothes, no sense of up, limbs thrashing in.. water, sea water! Your feet find the bottom before you mind tells you which way is up and in moments you standing, spitting water and gaining your balance.
Noises come to you through the mist, your eyes see only the unrelieved greyness and everything feels wet and gritty from the inside of your mouth to water around your legs. The noises become the sounds of your companions calling out, some words, some sounds, some words, some sounds. Either the mist lessens or your eyes learn again to see your hands in front of your face, your arms, your clothes, down to the swirling brown water.
Wading forward through the water, feet sinking slightly in the muck on the bottom, you move towards the sounds. Words calling out through the mist grow clearer, your outstretched arm connects with that of your companion and you pull each other into view. Together you find the others, most unseen, attached to the arms of others and obscured by the mists.
The mists dissipate as a light wind rises.
The grey mists retreats across the estuary shining silver under a grey morning sky. A slight current tugs at your leggings as you stand knee deep in churned muddy water. Nearby a bar of muddy sand rises from the muck spotted by a few young mangroves. Looking further the estuary spreads as far as the eye can see. Islands of mangrove rise between channels of water made silvery by the early sun. A morning mist rises to a grey sky.
Everything seams very new as you look around. A feeling of no past, no future falls like dew. Almost as one your attention is drawn to your companions and you see them as they are, tall and short, well built and slight, older, younger, all friends and you don’t really know why.
Looking at the others you feel a sense of belonging. Each is very well known to you proven time and again in circumstances you can’t recall.
Impressions, perhaps memories of this same group sitting in an open hall flow through like the breeze that kept things cool. A breeze that bought smells of small flowers and snow.
The tall, lean human man has a long mane of black hair and dull, gray eyes. Though he looks unimpressive, something tells you not to mess with him.
A memory: “So fierce, so driven…” words spoken quietly with a smile. Cool air, paper screens with simple patterns, a sense of peace. The same place sometime later and words, “Remember, Diligence and Perseverance”.
Golden scales seem to almost shimmer in the bright light as the tall, broad shouldered dragon-like individual moves about looking this way and that. His likewise golden eyes take in everything around him. Straight-backed and proud is his stance, powerful are his strides. He wears an armor of self-confidence about him… but his movements do not appear to be arrogant.
Standing just short of seven feet he is an imposing sight, and yet handsome in his own, strangely exotic way. An easy smile finds its way to the dragonborn’s face as he looks around, a little unsure of his surroundings, yet you can sense a feeling of companionship and safety in his presence; this is a friend who would challenge the armies of Hell to save his comrades.
In a world where no one has seen your like, your companions never judged you for being different.
At 4’ and 140 lbs, this dwarf is pretty much a runt in the eyes of other dwarves. His two distinguishing features are a scar running from his right temple to his chin (if he had a cleft, it would end less than an inch under it), with the blade making the furrow skipping over his eye. The other is his hair & beard are composed of 3 tones of brown (red, brown, & black), that are set in streaks through out. These are set in several braids, shot through both his mane & beard, each with all three colors.
Even standing among his large companions something in the dwarfs bearing makes him seam of a size.
The hulking orc stood amongst the others. Her powerful hands flexed as she surveyed the others. A thick black mane flowed down to the middle of her back; it appeared to have been well-kempt. Able to look the dragon-man and the dog-man in the eyes, hers yellow and darting from face to face. All she could think of was confusion; why could she not recall who these people were? Who was she anyways? She shook her head as if to dislodge these pervading thoughts.
Despite her confusion the others seam drawn to her, as if waiting to spring on her word.