A captain’s nightmare. Sailing up to Rivenrake—already a “cursed” destination according to many of the more superstitious among us. Sending out a longboat to take six passengers ashore for a little sightseeing. Fair enough—it’s their coin paying for the little side trip, and many are curious to see the island that is the source of so many rumors and ghost stories. But as the crew watched in horror, the passengers murdered the crew who rowed them ashore, leaving their bodies as they disappeared inland. Knowing that a mutiny would ensue if more crew were sent to that beach, the captain abandoned their bodies and the longboat to return to port in Magnimar.

That was the tale I was told by the captain of the Lordim Racer. As much as I wish that were just a tall tale told around a campfire, it actually happened. And here I am, at the scene of the crime. This time I have brought my friends to this place. On the trail, whether intentionally or not, of those killers. They have faced worse, from all their stories. But still, I will worry until they are back safely aboard Tyalee’s Whim. Who knows what dangers lurk in that cursed mountain? Just looking up at that giant face carved into its peak is disconcerting.

Oh, Tyalee, my dearest, my love.

At times like this I wonder where you have gone, what you’re up to… if you’re safe…

Every time I sail over mother’s grave these thoughts hit me, but now, as I sit at anchor within sight of Hollow Mountain, my new friends risking life and limb for their mission, my mind is dwelling on these morbid thoughts.

And I miss your carefree, unpredictable nature, your love for life. Perhaps Ashava can guide my mind back to still waters. How ironic that the Elf maiden who introduced me to the worship of the True Spark, who helped me overcome my despair as our love dashed on the rocks and we went our separate paths, couldn’t overcome her own pain and sadness about her own past?

Until last week, at least. I am happy for her newfound joy and peace, as much as every time I think of you, my Tyalee, full of hope that somewhere you are flitting from island to island out there exulting in every random moment of your life. I know I had to choose… couldn’t follow you on the path you had to take. But I still scan every dock of every port on the chance that perhaps you are there too. Straining to see your familiar form standing in the sunlight, your hair blowing in the breeze.

But alas, I need to keep my mind here on the present situation. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll send a crew to collect the longboat abandoned by the Racer. I hope they are not too afraid of any kind of taint of cursing on it for being at the scene of the murders or even just for being on the Old Man’s Launch which they say is haunted.