Turn 3

Dane Greenhelm, waterlogged swordsman, staggers up the beach to join the rest of you. He is sunburned and gull-pecked. His clothing is in shreds. He looks almost as bad as the rest of you, and Gepetto grabs a rock as he approaches, looking like a wild beast. But his voice is clear and his language the Common Tongue of the Northern Empire, as he asks you for water and gulps it down greedily. And he and Heflam appear to know each other, but for the moment neither says how.

Gepetto returns his attention to the crate, which spills out an enormous pile of sumptuous silk garments. Pants, shirts, hooded cloaks, capes, robes, scarves, and long bolts of the stuff, dyed intense shades of every color, and embroidered in gold and silver thread. It must have cost a fortune.

There are several more crates and several barrels. As you all gather them together and open them up with rocks, you find pots, pans, silverware, small cooking knives, and other kitchen goods. It's all made of cheap metal, and none of it can be used as weapons, alas. There's also a few sets of flint and steel for lighting fires. The barrels all turn out to be filled with ship's provisions -- ship's biscuit (a really, really hard form of bread), and leathery salt pork that needs to be boiled to be edible.

It's midafternoon. You're all very hungry.

Twix happens to open the first salt pork barrel. As his arms are in the barrel up to the elbows digging through the contents, there is a sudden shriek from above, and a small shape plunges from the top of the smokestack like a little silver lightning bolt. The small winged lizard, for that is what it is, alights precisely on Twix's forearm. It weighs almost nothing, Twix notices, and it looks like a tiny little silver dragon, about twelve inches from nose to tail with a wingspan about the same. It wraps its tail around Twix's forearm as he holds a piece of salt pork in his other hand. It looks intently at the pork, then looks earnestly at Twix's face and cheeps politely at him.