Theories of Drowned Men

Promise of the Sea

It has been over seven years since the obsidian gold pedestal, was plucked out the ocean's depth, during some sea-raiders foolish desire for riches. Among the floor, it rests, along the grand treasure chest, that once too knew a time of land, but if items could obtain content, there will be mass towards the pedestal. Eyes befalling its beautifully crafted pillars, arched with five by five stands, found desire in obtainment. Though ahead of time, had they saw the horror mounted, no-man would lay hands. Greed entrapped those hearts, leading this pedestal, and its horror to retrieve it, unto the land, dramatizing surviving encounters.

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Captain Tillzy of Lady Indigo, abruptly awoken to excited shock, echoing through open cheers, admitted by the crew. Stepping beyond the aged threshold, men inched aside, allowing their leader to better adjust his eyes, unto the item which gave much reason to cheer. Just as the clouds parted beneath a callous storm, tumble castled the beam of sunlight, perching off a glisten of obsidian gold, carved into a beautiful pedestal. It's dark mixed pillars arching upwards, covered by a five by five pedestal, where something once rest. On its Northern face, in a language that wasn't often spoken(or taught) by sea-traders, read the daunting words in Ozrenetic, "Promise of the Sea." What this meant remain clueless to the crew of Lady Indigo, and its captain, ignored through the promises of drinks and screwing, to celebrate their new wealth. Yet as the crew drew their anchors, dreaming away to their wealth, sailing back towards Portal Kal'Tres, they didn't notice the head bobbing back beneath the water's surface. Nor the strange shadow that split into the bottom of the ship, hidden among their barrels of trade.

'What do you think it means?' Captain Tillzy asked his second mate, Petrie Krump, who was a short fellow, shorter due to his leg being eaten off. Or so he implies whenever asked about his steel pegleg.

They had settled in the back of the Black Rat Tavern on the Northern face of Port Kal'Tres, after rolling their barrels of exotic oils, into the dock house for later accounting then selling. The crew moved the pedestal into their base camp, an empty warehouse cut between two allies after most started filling the taverns, assuring no lingering eyes to bask their treasure. It would take several days, a few secret hands, and some paperwork, to properly transact the obsidian gold item, into the endless grant of riches. Nobody of the ship held any doubt, nor any sorrow, that they may all soon put to rest their treacherous sea life. Petrie Krump lifted his large sout of ginger-berry ale, taking only a brief sip, before returning it before him onto the medium size table. His cloudy grey eyes linger against the crowd, watching drunks laugh out loud to crude jokes or some trade-friendly fist blows.

'Honestly, I'm not a man of superstition none-sense, but I've overheard my mother tell a story, to her brother, in an attempt of scaring him from sailing. She swore on her husband's grave, she was told this by a captain of a drowned ship, in a dream all too real. Though I call it hog'posh.' he paused, lifting the mug again, downing a bit more, in a mouthful. Slamming it onto the table, slouching himself, he continued on. 'She spoke of a king to a foreign land, who sailed the sea to Daleport, in hopes of finding friendship with its people. He set out with a treasure chest of all the riches he had left, and sailed on the greatest ship, for seven days till he merely reached Vex'karr(the first sea-border). Sabotage by a member from the Priesthood of Kotulkon, the ship, its king and the treasure sunk into the ocean's depth, never seen still after the radioactive wars. Now my mother wasn't at first a woman of supernatural belief, growing up heavily in a religious family, that was more renounced as spiritualist. But when her friend who was the captain of the drowned ship returned, telling her of horror so deep, she quickly believed in those other forces.'

'I can understand why you believe it such a tall-tales, especially with all the news of the fallout, that ravish much of the primal lands beyond the sea borders. Though I do admit with the pedestal really in our grasp, it's not hard to deny some truth to the lores, no matter how hosh'posh it is.' flashing a smile, the Captain leaned back into his chair, eyeing the crowd greedily. He had much to debate, much to think upon, but none of the desire to wait, with riches just within his grubby reach.