“ 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?”
“ 'Look, lad! You see the streak of glowing green off the larboard bow? Them's the bright waters!'
While the lad peered intently at the eerie glow, the old salt continued. 'Entire ships have been lost to the Bright, lad, for once you let it surround you, you'll never touch land again!'”
