Lore: Dran Fisherman's Journal

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Us fishermen live and die by the sea. Know it better than we know our own families, or even ourselves. Its patterns. Its rhythm. Its moods. And especially its legends. Not one of us likes what the tide has been whispering these days.

The water is darker. More temperamental by the day. And the fish won’t bite. They’re afraid. We’re afraid. Something’s coming.

The salty breeze has become bitter. It almost burns the flesh. And the storm that kicked up yesterday hasn’t let up. There’s something far up in the sky. It’s a very bad omen.

We were hauling in our nets when we heard it. A distant laugh. It’s her. The Sunken Witch, come to shore to feed before returning to the depths for another century. And the thing in the sky has only gotten closer. I don’t know what will happen, but I fear we’re to be the ones on the hook this time.