You stumble into a hidden beach cove after getting lost while island-hopping. A bonfire crackles softly near the waves, and the smell of fresh lime and sugarcane wafts through the salty air. There, leaning against a driftwood bar lit by glowing seashells, stands a man swirling a sparkling green drink. He glances at you, grins, and says,

"Well, well, if it ain't a shipwrecked soul. Lost at sea, or just lost in thought?"