Dalmar had drifted in and out of consciousness since he was kidnapped by the great avian beast that held him captive among the tiny waves of the great sea below. The direction of travel, at first, was apparent, but the whims of the giant bird and his flickering consciousness dissipated all hopes of future notions of his whereabouts. As the beast leveled itself upon a current of salty air, Dalmar looked through its talons once more and saw that he was over the water with no land in sight to either horizon. The moon shone upon the star dusted waters below like a vast mirror's reflection of the night sky dominated by the shining moon itself. Dalmar's senses began to return in this relatively calm pattern of flight, and he patted his side again as he did inside Draftengil. Yes, his sword was still on his side, and he knew that if he didn't use it soon then he may become food for this great bird. Finding some footing, Dalmar lifted his body up to a standing position, drew his sword, and looked at the cavernous grasp of the giant eagle from within its grasp. Dalmar looked out over the water once again, and he squinted for any signs of life other than he and the bird. The eastern horizon gave no signs nor did the western horizon.
The wind changed to the south, and his line of sight followed the winds as his hair tossed to and fro. This change in the wind also caused the great bird to change its coarse as it sailed through the starryu night's sky. Looking over the great sea, Dalmar tightened his eyes to mere splinters, and suddenly a small mass of land came into view. At that moment, Dalmar realized that he mustn't be too hasty or he might drop too far from land should he cause the bird to drop him in the water at this point. Patiently, Dalmar sat back down and reached into his pocket where he found the bits of bread and fish that he had stashed in his pockets. The salty fish made him quite thirsty, and the bread did nothing to help that sensation. This, of course, made Dalmar quite impatient, and he stood up again to view the small island in the distance. Forgetting that the bird's travel was greater than a man's travel, Dalmar came to find that the bid had almost passed the island entirely. He tookt he last morsel of fish and stuffed it in his mouth and held it there as he formed a series of words that bubbled from his heart. Dalmar raised his sword, quickly gazed at the moon and cried, "Ok, Ar-Simba-El, if that is, indeed, you looking down upon me once more, then know that if you let me die here at the hands of this great fall that I am about to undertake, then all you told me will have been for naught!" Dalmar breathed in deeply, and closed his eyes as he wrapped both hands around the hilt of his sword, and thrust it upwards through the talon of the great bird. Immediately, a great thunderous tone bellowed from the beast echoed across the pin-holed sky, and Dalmar was instantly covered in the beast's red, warm blood. With a single motion, the bird lifted its breast to the moon and shook its injured claw madly trying to loosen the tiny iron thorn stuck within its foot. This, naturally, released Dalmar from his bonds and sent his body flailing out over the waters in parabolic fashion like a falling star. The circular motion shook Dalmar to the point of exhaustion, and he closed his eyes tightly, bracing his mind and body for the striking of the cold waters below. Quickly, Dalmar peeked through the slivers between his eyelid, and he saw the water racing towards him, and he attempted to straighten his body to meet the impending crash. Any lesser man of strength would have been unable, but Dalmar trusted his gift and soon found himself rushing towards the water with his feet angling straight down. Then, all at once, Dalmar's body plunged into the water like a great burning arrow into blackness. His body immediately froze with disbelief, and his joints instantly numbed. Memories of swimming with Crassius flooded his mind, but was soon overtaken by the ominous need for air. Dalmar paused, found the Direction of the sky, and swam furiously toward the light of the moon. After a moment, Dalmar's body burst through the surface of the water, and the warmer air filled his lungs. He cried out and laughed with a bit of hysteria, exasperated that he has survived the plunge. Looking at the moon, he winked, and yelled, "Aye, Ar-Simba-El, that's my girl! I'll never doubt you again! Ha!"
Dalmar bobbed up and down in the water realizing that he was some ways from the small island in the water. The cold water soon overtook his feeling of happiness that he survived, and he began to feel a series of cramps crawl up his left leg where his contacted the water as the descended upon the surface of the sea. Dalmar swam for about thirty minutes, his muscles burning with the labored activity and the night's ordeal. The island's tide soon took hold of Dalmar, and his swimming became less labored as he drifted nto the island's shoreline. Soon, his foot struck the sandy seabed and he held himself upright and waded through the surf to the shore, and fell face first into the damp sand. Breathing furiously, he rolled over on his back and stared at the moon and stars, and fell asleep as his body's energies extinguished.
The next morning, Dalmar awoke on its own rested and sore from the previous night's swim. The sun was warm over his head, and he began to feel hungry and thirsty. At first, Dalmar tasted the brine that washed upon the shore of the beach, but he quickly found it to be too salty to enjoy for long. This seemed to compound his thirst, and felt impatient as he scoured the undergrowth of the tropical island for fresh water. Within thirty or forty minutes, Dalmar found a fresh water stream and he drank deeply at his leisure, and his thirst was sated for the moment. A little while after, Dalmar soon found some trees bearing brightly colored fruits and he ate. His immediate needs met, Dalmar decided to travel back to the shore and walk the edge of the island to survey his surroundings. He quickly picked several more fruit and stuffed them into hs pockets, and soon found himself traveling around the small island quite easily. The island seemed devoid of any sort of men or women, and the island was much smaller than he might have earlier thought. But as he rounded the west side of the mountain in the light that was previously unavailable to him the night before, he noticed the very slim edge of land at the edge of the horizon. Dalmar understood that this might very well bring travelers from the mainland within view of this island, and perhaps they had already been here recently or in the past. Dalmar decided he would make his camp on this side of the island. First order of business: either find or create shelter.
Dalmar had some experience with building things on his farm, but the materials were very raw on the island. After several attempts, Dalmar finally settled for a simple concoction of large leaves and sticks. That would just have to do for now. He'd experiment later with those sort of things. Next, Dalmar would look for fresh water on this side of the island and start a fire. It was customary members of the Glorsheim regiments to carry flint and tinder, and Dalmar felt inside his pockets for each. Only to be found was the heavy piece of flint, but that was fine with him. Soon, Dalmar had a small fire burning on the shore of the island. After a few hours, Dalmar had progressed to the point of creating a couple of spears from the thick limbs he found fallen in the forest that blanketed the interior of the island. This eventually lead to finding fresh water, a stream that he eventually decided was part of the larger stream he found earlier on the other side. within moments, Dalmar located a small tide pool and speared some fish, and was roasting his catch upon the fire. As the smell of the burning flesh wafted into his nose on the warm currents coming in from the ocean, he laid back against the base of a tree and smiled. He could get used to this, but he didn't want to spend the rest of his days here in seclusion. After all, he had things to attend. First order of business, find Xander and deal with him. In the meantime, relax, and get off this rock.
Dalmar spent several more days on the island. His steady diet of fish and fruit began to tire his palate as it was used to a wider variety of things, and he began to yearn for things such as wine and ales, honey and bread, and even chicken and potatoes. He tried not to think of those things too often as it agitated him and feelings of a finicky nature. On the seventh day, Dalmar stood over his tide pool and waited for a fish to stop swimming before he was to spear it with his pointed stick. for a moment, he looked out at the mainland, and to his suprise he saw a sail on the water passing out over the water at about three or for hundred meters from shore. Dalmar's heart jumped, and he dropped his stick. He looked again with his hand flat over the brow of his eyes to shield his vision from the sun's rays. Again, he saw a ship in the water running parallel to the shore, but this time he noticed that it had two sails. Dalmar hopped over the small coral reef poking through the surface of the shallow waters, and ran towards his makeshift campsite. Furiously he gathered a large stick and tried to hurry its catching on fire in the days of burning coals on the shore. Frustrated, he dropped the stick and nbegan to fumble for his piece of flint in his pocket, but that, too, was too slow. A thin layer of fear overtook him, and he began to sweat as he refreshed his memory with the position of the sails on the horizon. The boat has stopped and was undulating in the water with its back towards Dalmar and the island. Dalmar laughed, and relaxed. Dalmar realized that the ship was a fishing vessel from a nearby village, and it was fishing the waters offshore of his tiny corner of the world. Dalmar breathed, and saw the small wispy lines of the nets protruding from the sides of the small ship. He smiled, and noticed tha the stick he dropped in the fire was ablaze now. He picked up the burning stave, and trotted to the shore into the sun. A thick stream of black smoke escaped the burning wood and he swung it in the air, yelling to the ship. For the first ten or fifteen minutes, Dalmar got no response, and then finally, he saw a man walking on the upper deck of the fishing boat who appeared to be looking his way. Soon thereafter, a bright flash of light blinked in and out of view, and Dalmar knew the fisherman had seen him. Dalmar threw the stick into the air in joy, and fell to his knees. He laughed at the crazy story he would have to tell, and even wondered how it would translate, if at all, to the man on the ship. Hell, he still had no idea where he was currently located. Once again, the world was entirely unknown to him, and the irony seeped into his mind. His smile dropped slightly, and he pondered a way to greet these new found people. An hour passed, and the sun pivoted in the sky at its apex, and the fishing boat drew in its nets. Within a short time, the small ship drifted inwards towards the island, and signaled with the small mirror once again as it dropped a small dinghy onto the surface of the water. Dalmar's heart raced as he awaited their arrival, and he knew his isolation had ended.
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