He opened his eyes and coughed out a mouthful of water. All around him water was gushing through the shattered walls of the hull. Broken planks of wood were strewn about, now floating on the ever increasing flood of water. It was up to Ezekiel's knees by the time he pulled himself up in pain. He looked over himself, searching for the cause of the pain, but found nothing. It must be my head, he thought, patting and feeling around up there. When he felt a slickness he looked at his hand and saw it was covered in blood. It was all coming back to him now; the sudden, jarring collision, the smash in the side of the hull, the water pouring inside, and him slipping over and hitting the side of his head on a crate. That was when he passed out.

I need to get out of here.

Wading as quickly as he could through the knee-high water, Ezekiel approached the corpse of a sailor a few feet away. He was lying face down in the water, and had no visible wounds, so Ezekiel assumed he was knocked out like he was and then drowned. Crouching down, Ezekiel began patting around the man's waist. He found what he was looking for; a pouch of gold. It wasn't very heavy, but anything would suffice. He tucked it away securely in his back pocket. He was about to stand up and go when he noticed the dagger the man bore on the other side of his waist. Ezekiel slipped it out from the man's breaches and examined it. It was iron and was beginning to rust, but that didn't matter. He'd buy a proper weapon later. If I survive this shipwreck that is.

The water was now approaching his waist, so Ezekiel wasted no more time with the corpse. He waded as quickly as he could towards the other end of the hull, where the wooden steps that led up to deck were. He was nearly there when something seemed to collide with the ship. Ezekiel fell backwards into the water, but managed to keep his head above it. Whatever it was that hit the ship this time, it was big and hard, for now the wall next to the stairs exploded in wood. More water rushed inside, and Ezekiel was dismayed when the stairs were shattered by the force that hit the ship. The water now dangerously high, Ezekiel got himself back up and desperately waded as fast as he could across the hull to where the large hole in the wall was. The area of roof right above the wall that had broken apart was destroyed as well, leaving a large enough gap to swim out of. Putting the dagger between his teeth, Ezekiel began swimming as hard and fast as he could towards the hole. The constant rushing of water against him made it harder than usual, but he persisted. I'm nearly there. I've nearly made it.

He passed through the shattered wall of the hull and emerged into the ocean. As far as he could see stretched out before him was water. Gasping for air as the water splashed into his mouth, Ezekiel turned and grabbed a hold of the sinking ship. It wasn't a very large vessel, consisting of only a single deck and a hull beneath full of crates and barrels of various foods, and the crew was only eight, including the captain. With the last of his strength, Ezekiel hauled himself up and clambered onto the top of the ship, which was now the side of it, as it had slowly turned sideways as it sunk. He desperately looked around for anything to make for.

Aha, there it is. Land.

About three hundred feet away was the coastline. It was drab and stony and muddy, but it was land. Behind it were the tundras and snow-capped trees. Further away to the east of the coastline were towering cliffs and mountains. Ezekiel knew little of this place, but he knew that behind them lay Winterhold, and its mage college. That's where he'd go. Not the college, since he knew absolutely nothing of magic, but the town. He'd find safety there, and food and a bed as well, as least for the night.

He felt the ship beginning to sink even deeper down into the icy ocean, so Ezekiel peered around him to see if there was anything else to grab onto. He wouldn't last very long swimming the three hundred feet to land in freezing cold waters wearing nothing but a top and breaches. He didn't even have anything on his feet. All that he could see was a large collection of shattered and drifting ice pieces, all about six to ten feet large. They would have to do. Ezekiel noticed a dark lump on one of them. When he shaded his eyes from the sun and peered, he saw that it was a body. A corpse, more like.

The closest piece of ice was twenty feet away, so Ezekiel wasted no time. He took a deep breath, braced himself, and dived into the water. It was just as freezing cold as before, but this time he was jolted by the shock of hitting it all at once. He suppressed a curse - since that would open his mouth, subsequently letting water in and losing the dagger - and began swimming. He lifted his head above the water and sucked in the air. Another few painfully cold seconds later and he reached the ice. With one hand he took the dagger from his mouth and tossed it onto the ice before pulling himself up and rolling onto his back, panting from the effort. He lay like this for a full minute before climbing back onto his feet, picking up the dagger and spotting his next destination; the ice piece with the corpse on it. Thankfully it was only a few feet away, so he wouldn't have to do any more swimming for the moment.

Ezekiel took a few steps back, readied himself, and sprinted. He took four quick steps before launching himself into the air. His arms waved about wildly as he went through the air, and in a couple of seconds he felt his feet hit the ice, and he knew he made it. He sighed with relief.

Ezekiel turned around and cast a glance where the ship had been, to see it now nearly entirely submerged under water, only a few feet of it still sticking out. Several drowned corpses had began to appear and float around it. It would seem I was the only lucky one, he thought satisfied. The others had been nothing to him, and he would not mourn them.

Turning his attention to the corpse at his feet, Ezekiel realized this was the captain of the ship The Long Voyager. Ezekiel crouched down and looked over the man. He was bald, but had a bushy beard. His face was very pale. Presumably he had tried to swim away from the ship, but he must have swallowed too much water. With his last breathes he must have clambered up onto the ice. Not that it did him any good.

He was wearing a thick fur coat, so that was the first thing Ezekiel took. The warmth of it embraced him as he pulled it on. At the man's hip was a sword sheath. Ezekiel took out the iron longsword inside and examined it. It was in better condition than the dagger, and was a much more useful weapon in general. Knowing this, Ezekiel picked up the dagger and tossed it into the water. He'd have no need of it now that he had a longsword, and the extra weight would only be a burden on him. Next he took the captain's boots, which were leather with a fur lining. As he slipped his shivering feet into them, Ezekiel had never felt a better feeling. He found the captain's purse of gold next. This one felt a little heavier than the other one he'd taken. Taking it out from his back pocket, Ezekiel opened it up as well as the captain's purse and poured the gold from that one into the other, before tossing the now empty purse into the water and placing the now much more full purse back into his pocket.

The captain, now short a coat, sword and boots, lay before Ezekiel, who looked down at him. Shrugging to himself, Ezekiel gave the corpse a push with his boot and watched as it splashed into the icy water and sank beneath the surface. Let the fish have a nice meal.

He slid his longsword into the scabbard, which he had also taken from the captain before dumping his body in the water, and sighted the next piece of ice he'd jump to. Much to his relief, this one, and all the ones next to it, were pressing against each other, so he would only have to take a single step and he'd be on the next piece of ice. He judged that he'd reach solid land in a few minutes.