The Beginning Of The End السجل · Veilwater Basin

Missing Person: Rolf Mantacore

My cousin Rolf is missing!

He went to Orville to work as a pearl diver but never returned.

Rolf may have been a daredevil, but he'd always send word whenever he'd run off!

To anyone who's seen him: let me know where he is or bring him back home!

- Willy

No Word From Orville

People 'round 'ere are worried. First, t'was Stillwater Bay, then Goldrock Saddle. We've lost sight of our settlements one by one, and those who make the journey North-West wash ashore like dead fish.

The lads from the ol' lumber mill 'ave family n' friends workin' as divers down in Orville, but none 'ave seen 'em as of late. They've sent neither word nor pearls. They're already gone, I say!

I told 'em not to take lodgings in the valleys. I did. But none listened. Did they all forget the tales?

Many years ago, 'fore the crown got shattered into three, no, 'fore the kingdom had formed at all, we were ambushed.

Wild beasts, half man, half animal, rushed from the coast to darken their waters with our blood, they did. They were envious of our bond with the Ancients, whom they believed to be messengers of their gods. 'Twas a wonder of human engineering n' strategy that we ever defeated 'em.

Today, most of us moved on — but the Drak never forgot. I believe they've returned, I do, but no one listens to an ol' bag o' bones.

What Did I See?

I was always proud of my intuition. Could spot those itching for mutiny before they'd ever stepped onto my boat, sensed a storm brewin' from the cry of the gulls miles away.

But this time, just once, could I be wrong?

When I heard the west winds whistle a new tune, did I mistake its sharpness as sinister?

When I reeled in a hundred fish with torn fins, did I misread their injury as a threat?

When I thought I saw the evil doers of old childhood stories leap from the pages into the water, were my eyes betraying me?

Am I spinning a yarn from my own sanity's thread? I ought to warn the others, lest I unravel fully.

Whether they will trust the word of a tale-teller, I cannot say. Some may claim a fisher ought to stick to fishin'...