Those sissy boys in the army, they gotta have their 'bots and guns, shiny vehicles and iron suits. Me, I don't need none of that. I've got everything I need on me.
Cagle, Claremont Class Biomod Mercenary
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?