Hello New World

I had washed up on the shore hours before. I hadn't really moved, instead I decided it was a good idea to just become one with the sand and ship debris washing up next to me.  The storm that had destroyed captain Fred's ship was not present on the beach I was on, it was actually a pleasant day if you can believe that. All of that was to say that I was lying on a beach coated in drying sand in clothes that were partially torn, and fully waterlogged.  About the only good thing I had going for me was I still had both of my pistols, though with all the water I knew they probably would not fire, and I did not know if I could find new bullets that fit their chambers (its not like Hanlon made none standard pistols or something, but my knowledge of the place I sailed to? Between zero and zero).

I was actually having a pleasant nap pretending what was going on was not actually going on (have you ever done that? Tried to sleep a problem away? It never actually works, but it feels good in the short term). Until I heard that that hammer click.  I don't know why people iniate conversation with a gun in your face by pulling the hammer back.  I mean they already have you at the end of a barrel, whats that extra half second click going to do other than make it more possible for an accident? There were four of them, all had rifles but only one had their barrel in my face.

"You breathing?" I opened my eyes, well eye, I had one half of my face in the sand, so my left eye was the only visual I was getting.

"Probably." I was laying on my stomach, but its not like they couldn't have seen me breathing all the same.  Sand tasted awful by the way.

"Well then get up." Always nice to have armed men giving orders to you like you should have been following them from the get go (men in authority always tend to assume you know they are the authority even when they are not). I noticed as I stood up that they were all dressed in a lot heavier clothing than my torn to shreds pants and shirt looked like.  I didn't feel cold, but they didn't have an inch of skin showing, not even on their faces, just covered up scarves with slits for eyes.

"Look I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"You're from a shipwreck right?"

"Ok so maybe we are on the exact foot we should be." One of the none holding a gun on me people unhooked my pistols and ammunition.

"You are our slave now sailor."

"Really we have to do this?" A heavy hit to my head and ropes binding my wrists answered that question.  I found myself really longing for my magic again, if only to show these people I'm a slave to no one! But back in horrible reality I had sailed across the world to become someone elses servant, I tell you there are times I feel stupid for even opening my door.