We find ourselves amid artificial reef. Our vessel rocks.

Some of our number help row the craft through sharp grey reef. We take stock of our supplies; only one sack of rich berries left.

In an instant, day becomes night, and the boat is tossed about.

We plot our course. The raft requires repairs.

Pale skies.

A swarm of insects. Majestic cliffs. A folly.

The heavens roar with thunder. We will not sleep tonight.

The future is uncertain.

The churning waters rock the rickety boat. We drift past an impenetrable airship.

Pink twilight.

Something topples overboard; a tankard.

A light shower of rain. The boat sails onward.

The wind carries a single leaf. Another dream; this time of when the floating watchers stole our crabs.

Memories of bones in the surf.

We think about old alliances with barbarians with intricate braids.

A mournful tune. Talk of winged companions.

Cold, hard rain. A prayer to the clouds.

The endless seas surge. Towering over us, some sort of island.

Sudden thunder. A prayer to the turbulent heavens. Fungal walls. Rocks tumble and splash.

The winds rise and the boat speeds along. A cave.

Our vessel creaks.

Our raft pushes on.

The mysterious ocean.

Restless dreamers. The stars sing gently.

For some time we drift through dull brown reef, strewn with shipwrecks.

We remember imperial ships.

Booming clouds. We will not sleep tonight.

The moon peeks from cloud.

An elder sneezes.

Memories of the clash of spears.

The moon wanes.

Lighting arcs across the heavens and the children hang on tight. Sienna hills.

Dark clouds gather. The elders share tales about sailors who drowned in search of a machine which could speak.

Pink twilight.

The smell of grey seasnakes cooking.

The steely waters surge. The children tinker with spearheads and cloth.

Vines hang from nearby bluffs. We meet refugees with a fondness for gemstones and barter for sharks.

Something cries below. The raft continues.

The seas shimmer. Children count blacked as the elders speak of refugees with crossbows, on a journey to find a handful of smooth grey moonstones.

Memories of the poison in their hearts.

A threatening wind rocks our rickety raft. We all train bows on seabats overhead.

Restless dreamers.

The malevolent waves sway the vessel.

The blue. Powdery hills.

The restless sea. An old woman tells a story about amazons who met their demise long ago.

The children imitate winged creatures.

The children ask about strange, distant lights.

Stars dwindle into morning.

How long have we been adrift?

A steam-powered machine covered in sickly lichen passes noisily. Fastenings break from it, splashing into the sea.