We be hearin some mighty tales of mysterious magic comin from the Village of Paws and set out on an early mornin raid to get to the bottom of it. Me and Quartermaster Finn hopped in our newest boat which we found crashed upon our shore this very morning. This here boat was locked up tight but crashed so hard onto the shore you could just walk right onto her. A key in the hold? Well shiver me timbers we got ourselves some luck today! We all decided to name her after the circumstances of her being found by us, legs spread open, lettin any man on board, we christened her "The Whore [XXX]". We landed our vessel north of Trinidad and began the overland route to the village. Not an easy trip, running into trees the both of us, drunker then hell on some cider. As we approached the village of paws my whiffer began to catch a magical scent. Well we followed that scent until we came to an old tower just west of the shrine. Didn't appear to be nobody inside but my whiffer never tells a lie. Well looky here mateys, we looked closely enough and all of a sudden the oracle appeared right in front of my nose. Surprised, I quickly drew my cutlass. Our plan was to take the oracle hostage under threat of a painful death ifin our orders weren't followed. Now dis here Oracle wouldn't so much as blink an eye. Ignoring me orders blatantly, and that jus won't stand by me. I struck the oracle in the head with the flat side of me cutlass and no sooner had that blade made contact did me and my matey find ourselves layin in the dirt outside the tower. Oh that be some powerful juju magic this oracle has got, believe me. What at first seemed like a complete failed raid, bein as we were kicked to the curb by the oracle and never got to take her hostage liken we intended, quickly turned into a raging success when we found a bottle of ale inside Fender's tower. But all that drinkin and a man's got to take a piss.
I am two parts pleased, three parts enraged, and five and three quarters sure that I'm going to burn down the pirates' lighthouse! (sorry if that mathematical equation hurts your brains ye salt sodden sea hags!) Ye were warned that the clockword oracle was a mysterious contraption. Didn't you notice she was made of oak an appears dead as a rock until you give her a gem? Oh wait.. that's right a Pirate would sooner have his head parted from his shoulders before he'd part with a gem of any value!
Oh that'd be the day now wouldn't it. Pluto the grey wizard hoppin in a boat an tryin his luck on the salty sea all the while marked with the black spot, and you call us crazy? I'm fraid you probably gunna come down with da seasickness at best and at worst spend the rest of yer short life in davey jones locker you landlubber. If by some miracle of the gods you do make it to bald island alive I reckon we would quickly send you and your lot back home on a ghost ship. An jus threatenin to burn down our lighthouse will earn you the shackles in Davey Jones locker you little bilge rat. Mind my words Pluto, Bald Island is not a safe place for you to seek adventure, less you already figured out the dark magic that is the black spot and feel confident sailing the seas while under that wicked curse. That spot may appear small and menial but that dark magic will sink your boats quicker then you can run for the plank. To use yer own words against ya, Wizards "are fools who dabble in the dark arts; chasing their elusive fantasies of freedom they often find much more than they bargain for." I DARE YA to sail under that black spot Pluto, I DARE YA.
