A Sailor's Tale

"Come here, lad, and mind what I tell ye. Been sailin’ these waters nigh on forty years, and there’s things out there what’ll turn yer hair white if ye don’t heed the warnings.

There was once a man, some called him Arhdaal, though most just knew him as the Man. Lived all alone on a cursed rock of an island, black cliffs risin’ straight up from the deep like Morithal’s own teeth. Poor soul was lonelier than a sailor three months from port, just wastin’ away on that godforsaken pile of stone.

But then, blow me down, along comes a woman. Beautiful as a calm sea at sunrise, she was. Called herself Raana, though the old salts just call her the Woman. Soon as she set foot on that island, the Man’s misery was done with. Happy as a grog-drunk bosun on shore leave, they were.

Now here’s where it gets strange, boy, they lived together on that rock for years beyond countin’, and they say he wore the crown of her love, and she wore his. Not gold or jewels, mind ye, but somethin’ far more precious. Wherever they walked, life sprouted up like magic. Jungles thick as a fo’c’sle hammock, coral gardens beneath the waves, the whole place turned into paradise itself.

Might’ve stayed that way forever, but joy’s like a full sail in a storm, draws trouble fast as ye please.

One black day, an old crone washed up on their shores. Bitter as bilge water and twice as foul, that one was. She whispered poison in the Man’s ear, lies, every word, but they took root like barnacles on a hull. The jealousy started eatin’ at him, turnin’ his love sour as week-old hardtack.

In the end, the fool went and cast his woman out. Threw away the only good thing he’d ever had, all 'cause of that wicked crone’s lies.

When the Man went lookin’ for the crone after, she just cackled at him like a mad gull. Mocked him for tossin’ away his treasure. That’s when the poor wretch realized what he’d done.

The Man wept then, boy, wept like the sky itself was breakin’. And as he sobbed, the whole damned island started shakin’. The jungles turned black as pitch, the waters boiled up angry, and soon that paradise was sittin’ smack in the middle of a howlin’ maelstrom that never stops.

Up to the highest peak he climbed, callin’ for his woman day and night. But she was gone, and no amount of hollerin’ could bring her back. Finally, mad with grief, the poor devil hurled himself off that cliff and broke himself on the rocks below.

But here’s the devil of it, at the very moment he died, his woman came back. Too late, curse it all, too late! When she saw her man’s broken body, she let loose such a wail as to crack the heavens wide. Still gives me the shivers, thinkin’ on it.

Up she went to that mountain peak, right to the spot where he’d called for her, and there she sits still. Singin’ her heart out across the waves, mournin’ what can never be mended.

Now listen close, lad, ‘cause this is where it matters to the likes of us. If ye ever sail far enough south into the Cerulean, past the Shardstone Reef and through the Mouth of Valtor, ye might hear singin’ carried on the wind. Sweet as honey and twice as dangerous.

If ye do hear it, boy, ye turn that ship about fast as ye can trim sail. That’s Raana’s lament, and no soul what follows that song is ever seen breathin’ again. Oh, ye’ll see ‘em after a fashion, ghost ships on the horizon, sailin’ ‘round that cursed island for all eternity. That’s yer warnin’ right there, boy. See them phantom vessels, and ye know ye’re gettin’ too close to waters what’ll claim yer soul.

The sea keeps all her secrets, lad, but some secrets ain’t worth learnin’."