30 Assassins, both great and pathetic. - Die, by our hands…
Barnacles and bilge rats, a pernicious package of perfidious pirates!
The are 30 thieves, killers and other criminals that ought to be behind bars.
Jemas Lorne, the most celebrated poet of the age, was found dead, clutching a fragment of verse torn from his journal. The tantalizing fragment spoke of wealth:
Golden sands, empty and cold,
Treasure's crypt, forgotten gold.
Under stone, ancestor's doom,
Noble's prize, troubadour's tomb.
Rumours claim that the poet's father, an eccentric nobleman, had hidden much of his wealth before his death. Perhaps the missing journal has more clues?