The: Pillager Bay Updated

I arrived in the bay on a Tuesday, seeking wreckage. I am a salvager of sorts, though I deal less in gold bullion or ancient amphorae and more in the quiet tragedies of lost shipping containers. The insurance companies hire me to tag the hulls of capsized trawlers, to confirm that the MV Maren or the SS Lodi is truly at the bottom, so that the ledger books can be balanced and the widows paid. Usually, it is a job of mud and silence. Usually, the sea gives up its dead.

Oh, sailor boy, turn back your ship, Avoid the Reaver’s final trip. For if you drop an anchor here, You’ll leave your bones for boats to fear. the pillager bay