Random stick

Roland lay gasping on the sand for several moments, flipping onto his back to look at the pink sky. 

At last he gathered himself enough to sit up and look around. The rest of the men were already hard at work organizing supplies. 

The other two ships seemed stable as they bridged the gap between sea and land, but there seemed to be a general resignation to the fact that it would be difficult, or impossible, to take that route home. 

Even if they managed to push off from the shore, the maneuvers needed to get a safe distance away would be all but impossible without an extremely favorable wind. 

Their best hopes now lay within the land's interior. 

Roland patted his pockets, immensely relieved to find he still had Finn's sketches of the babies. 

He would have been devastated to lose them on top of being stranded in a strange world with no obvious way to return. 

It put things in a new light. They would need to figure out a way to launch the remaining ships against a strong current, which was all but impossible, or create portals themselves. 

"Jimmy?" Roland raised his voice, looking around for the little man. "Where are you?" 

Standing to his feet, the Rhone prince gazed around. The Cetoan men were unloading things from the ships and setting up temporary shelters on the shore to set up a camp. There was no guarantee that the ships would stay balanced in place if a strong wind or storm hit. 

Haf decided that a contingent of men would be left to tend the boats, while an exploratory force would accompany Roland and himself into the jungle to search for Edmar. Roland nodded his agreement with the plan before continuing his search for the elusive quarter-halfling. 

"Jimmy? Will you come out and talk to me?" He pursed his lips in mild irritation.

"What ya want?" Came the call from the tree line. 

The Rhone prince loped over to the sound, and discovered the little man crouched in the greenery of the jungle. Jimmy was searching around with his hands along the ground. 

"What are you looking for?" Roland asked curiously. 

"What ya THINK I'm lookin' for? A stick. A rock. Something. A stick would be best." Jimmy seemed irritated at Roland's ignorance. 

The taller man lifted his hand to grab a branch just within his reach and snapped off a large twig. 

"Like this?" He held it out, and Jimmy snatched it from him. 

Roland continued watching as the man turned his back to Roland and opened his ever-present pack. He pulled out a jar of liquid and several pouches. With fascination, Roland watched the man measure out portions of small leaves and roots, grind them with an ingenious little device he produced from deeper in the pack, and sprinkle them into the liquid. 

Finally, he took the stick that Roland had provided, and immersed it in the jar. He refitted the lid and shook the entire thing with vigor for several seconds, and then lifted it to his eyeline to observe it closely. 

"Hm." He said. 

"How long until you know whether that works?" Roland caught on part way through the ordeal that Jimmy was making a portal-opener. That was incredibly convenient of him, assuming that he would use it to help the Cetoans get home and not abandon them for his own purposes. 

"Depends," Jimmy spat into the jungle. 

"On…?" The prince hated the weird air of mystery in which the little man seemed to enjoy cloaking himself. 

"How useful you want it to be." The man reloaded his pack and stood. "Could find out soon, if ya just want it to work once for a few seconds. If you're wanting a reusable portal-opener, it needs to soak fer at least a year, maybe two." 

"A YEAR?" Roland exclaimed. "Are you saying we're going to be stuck here that long?" 

"Naw, I think you ought to get me a few more sticks though. I can't do 'em in the same jar, but after we get home I'll soak 'em then." Jimmy pointed upward and Roland began reaching up to gather what the man wanted. 

"How long, then?" He demanded. 

"Bout a week, I should think, to make sure it can stay open long enough to get all your men back. They'd better be all lined up and ready to run through, though. Be best if we could know ahead of time where it'll open. If the Commodore's fool son has a halfling with him, they're probably scouting good places to portal. We could piggyback off them 'stead of wasting our own time." 

"That seems wise," Haf interjected, having come closer to see what his nephew and their guide were up to. "The search party is ready to leave. Our first order of business is to walk further down the beach and check their landing site." 

"Good. No need to waste time lounging when we could be doin'." Jimmy stashed the additional wood in his pack and slung it over his shoulder. 

"If I provide you with another jar," Haf stared at the little man, "Can you make another to leave with the men at the ships?" 

"Could do, could do. Course, they don't know how to tell when it's ready, and don't know how to use it, and we have no idea if they'd appear on land or sea if they tried." Jimmy shrugged. "I only brought enough herbs for two, maybe three. Hard to come by, they are." 

Haf nodded. "We appreciate your cooperation." 

Jimmy pursed his lips, clearly hoping for some kind of material appreciation by the end of their adventure. 

While the two made the final arrangements, Roland knelt to look at a flower growing on a vine. It was brightly colored, pink and orange petals and a brilliant purple center. Large thorns stuck out from the side of the stem, discouraging him from attempting to pick it. 

"We should be cautious about the plants here," He advised. "I think it would be best for everyone to wear gloves, if possible, while we walk through the jungle. It's possible these things could be poisonous." 

Haf squinted at the plant. "Hm." 

He raised one hand, and one of the men trotted up to see what was needed. 

"Have all men on the search and scouting party be provided with gloves if possible. Get some for myself and my nephew as well from the supplies. And shoes. Everyone that has shoes should wear them." 

The man touched his chin, lowered his hand, and ran off to do so. 

Roland had not thought about shoes, since he always wore his. Realizing that the Cetoans largely went barefoot made him nervous. The undergrowth of the jungle was thick, and with the exception of Jimmy, everyone with him was apparently used to spending more time at sea than on land. 

What had been an advantage so short a time ago now seemed a liability. He was fairly confident that none of them had spent any significant time making their way through uncharted forested terrain. 

Of course, the forests that Roland had traversed were significantly less exotic and overgrown, but at least he knew the basics of navigating his way across a landscape. 

He thanked a sailor who passed him a pair of gloves and a new knife, apparently having noticed that Roland lost his. He had to admit the crew was efficiently run and eager to be helpful. 

"Let's go," Haf nodded, and the two set off down the beach. The sand was a deeper orange color than Roland had seen before, and he wondered how much the pink sky affected the perception of colors here. 

He stooped down briefly to scoop a small sample into a pouch to take home. If he ever got home. Haf slid him a glance but did not question him about it. 

Edmar's ship was several minutes' hike down the beach. Roland was not paying enough attention when he first spotted it to check whether there were any sailors aboard or around the ship. 

Surely there wouldn't be any sort of fight. From the sailor they'd recovered from the Wave Skimmer's wreckage, it seemed as if Edmar had not tried to turn the men against Haf, at least not yet. 

The man must be relying on separation and being the top of the chain of command as far as his sailors knew. 

When the ship came into view, The mood tensed considerably. Roland wondered where the third ship was. His initial guess was that it had fallen, like their own, into the chasm, but perhaps it was still out there in the sea, ready to ferry home whatever sailors were able to row far enough out to reach it. 

Not a man was in sight as they came closer. The ship was tied off and anchored, as best it could be, but not a soul was within sight. 

"Hullo!" Haf called. "Anyone aboard?" 

The group waited for several moments in strained silence, but there was no reply to be heard. 

Only the call of some exotic bird, and tracks leading from the beach up into the jungle.