Six hours on the tumultuous seas and the oceans bounty seems bereft of big fish. Superstitious doubts, like dark inky kraken limbs begin to seep out from my subconscious. Their deathly cold grasp seeking to turn me away from my task. Taking a deep breath, of the salt infused air, I shake off the insidious thoughts and renew my grip upon my fishing pole. With dogged determination I continue to cast. "Maybe just one more hour..."
Heed my warning or you will find yourself in the shadowed tides where I now reside. Beware the corsairs in the North Eastern seas! Forgo the sirens call of a fellow fisher named Ari. Do not approach for your death by lightning and fire surely will follow.