“Huppe!” Captain Seren cried in joy. “You’re alive!”

“Yes, sir!” Huppe panted, ecstatic to see his captain was indeed alive and fairly well. His rush down the beach to where lay his ship’s commander had left him short of breath. “I made it to land on a timber from the boat.”

“Of course I remember the boat, Huppe! By God! How we escaped a watery grave is beyond my mind’s abilities!”

“No, sir, I said a timber.”

“Timber?”

“From the boat, sir.”

“No, I don’t think it was.” The captain gazed seaward with great consternation. “No, Huppe, it was the crate of relics from the cargo deck.”

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“It was the relics crate that floated me to shore and salvation!”

“No, sir,” Huppe pulled at his shirt in frustration. “The timber was my flotsam. It is how I escaped the watery grave. It is how I am alive!”

“Oh very well, Huppe. We can praise our gods for surviving the tempest later. At present we need to take inventory of our predicament and concern ourselves with our immediate future. Go!”