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As I lay in my hammock listening to the sound of Mudd’s rough voice drone on about his shovel, I can’t help but to ponder on the peculiarities that put me in this position. A few weeks ago a Paradigm ship was spotted tracking us through the Gulf Of Ogewick.
I use to think The Hollow Heart would be my road to riches but as I watched it sink into Lotus Basin I felt a pull at my own heart as I realized she was only going to make it part of the way. Now it was time to forge my own path. And so I set off to find my riches.
Through the mangrove I went treading oh so carefully as to not draw attention to myself. But even a captain can fall victim to fate. I must make my way further inland. Further away from Paradigm.
I stopped to rest and sat down on what I thought was a tree stump which turned out to be a rather odd looking dwarf unlike those I’d seen in my travels. I made the mistake of asking him his name. Now I can’t get rid of him. He just keeps going on and on about some shovel in Imperium.
Not sure what to make of it but he’s stronger than all the men on my last crew combined and has some of the dumbest luck I’ve ever seen so I made him first mate of my currently shipless 2-man crew. But off we set with a new sense of purpose avoiding towns just to be safe.
We spotted an outpost north of Nora’s Respite and as usual Mudds stomach decided we should take a closer look. All the people here seemed to be a cheery bunch excited about an upcoming tournament. All except for a very agitated looking man named Simon.
After some digging Mudd discovered that he was Captain of the town guard and host of the tournament. Haha a fellow captain. Could come in handy in a pinch. Either way a tournament was a good way to make some coin and battle is something I’m all too familiar with.
Surprise is all I received from the people here though. For, despite their calm demeanor, they fight as though life itself was the bet. I could use some good fighters like this. Perhaps once I rebuild the Hollow Heart, I’ll recruit some of these crazed fighters and finally get back on the road to riches.
Until then I believe I’ll give Mudd my walking stick to pacify his shovel cravings. Hopefully it will postpone his constant need to talk about this mystical shovel of his. Not sure my nerves or my mind can take much more.
May the wind forever fill your sails.
Captain Albert Alexander Draven
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