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> SELECTED: “Have you ever been… west?” You drop your voice at the last, well aware that even speaking of it is taboo to the locals. But if anyone that knows anything would be willing to talk to you about it, it would be one of your fellow countrymen. [Idealist]
<span class="mu-i">“Ah, so you know about the local taboo.”</span> The trident knight pauses, staring into the glass of his cup. The moment of silence goes on long enough that you begin to think he’s not going to answer. <span class="mu-i">“There is an island. Out west, as far west as you can go and still call it part of the Langlish isles. I’ve only had reason to go out there once, in pursuit of a particularly desperate pirate. San Vittore, they call it. It’s a miserable rock, with a colony of miserable outcast folk. Lepers.”</span>
<span class="mu-i">“A leper colony?”</span> You raise an eyebrow, hardly the den of evil you had expected. But it seems the man isn’t yet done with his tale.
<span class="mu-i">“Mostly, though there are others. Crabbers, fisherfolk. They keep to themselves, but I’ve heard stories. They say that every year, two of their number are sent out to man a lighthouse on the westernmost islet."</span> A shake of the head suggests what he thinks of this. <span class="mu-i">"I don’t know why. Can’t be to guide ships away from the rocks through the pervasive year-long fog, no sane captain sails out in those waters. But every year, they send two men out. And every year, and I mean -every- year, only one comes back.”</span>
<span class="mu-i">“Reginae wept.”</span> A cold shiver crawls up your spine, questions of possible human sacrifice left hanging in the air. <span class="mu-i">“What do you think is out there?”</span>
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